


Finding Home

by mamabug



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: And of course an HEA, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Friendship, Hikaru pursues, Kyoya Plots, Love Triangles, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Second Chance at Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2018-11-16 08:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 148,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11249838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamabug/pseuds/mamabug
Summary: Six years ago she left them, right when they needed her most. But it's been too long and the Shadow King is tired of waiting. Whether she realizes it or not, it's time for Haruhi to come home.





	1. Prologue:  Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran or its characters. If I did we'd have seen a lot more shirtless Mori. Standard disclaimer applies for rest of the fic. Void where prohibited by law.
> 
> This story follows after the end of the Manga+Omake with one glaring exception. The prologue occurs the summer after Haruhi and the twins graduate and the rest about six years later.

Kyoya walked slowly up the flight of stairs to the second floor of the middle class apartment complex. Four hours past noon, the hot August sun still beat down unrelentingly. The black wool suit he was forced to wear amplified the heat and humidity, causing sweat to pool in the roots of his hair and drip inexorably down his back, plastering his white shirt to his skin.

She'd told him not to come.

He'd ignored her, of course. Too independent and stubborn to admit she needed someone to lean on. Too oblivious to realize he'd be leaning on her in return. He had no qualms about overriding her wishes when it was for her own good.

He stopped before the door of Apartment 203 and took a deep fortifying breath before giving it a short, preemptory knock. When the door slowly swung open of its own accord he furrowed his brow in concern. Often alone in the apartment since a child, she was always scrupulous about securing the door against potential threats. Always. He hesitated a minute, searching for signs of movement within, and then tentatively stepped into the small entry way.

"Haruhi? I know you said you'd get there on your own, but…" He stopped; the apartment had an unnaturally quiet feel that sent raised goosebumps on the back of his neck despite the heat of the day. Ignoring a lifetime of good breeding, he hesitatingly walked uninvited into the living room. The _tatami_ mats made a light crunching sound when he stepped on them with his black dress shoes. Something wrong, something out-of-place tugged at his senses and his heart raced.

Trying to stay calm, he surveyed the room, cataloging every aspect against his memory of it. TV, table, cushions, shrine, everything was in its place waiting the occupant's return. Out on the balcony, the summer wind chimes tinkled softly with the brush of a welcome breeze.

But something was definitely wrong.

He turned around in a slow circle, this time closely examining every corner. At first his eyes skipped past it, but something made him halt and turn back to look again at the small cupboard against the wall. The two pictures that had sat side by side in it were missing.

Panicking, he bolted towards the bedroom and threw open the door so hard it rocked on its cheap metal rails. Eyes darting frantically, he took in everything. The desk was tidy, the futon neatly folded away, the closet and dresser were full of clothes and her toothbrush remained by the bathroom sink. But his blood ran cold when he spotted the empty places on her dresser where two pictures once stood.

He knew with absolute certainty that she was gone.

_Damn_ her.

* * *

The twins pounced before he'd finished exiting the car. "Where is she? You said you were picking her up?" interrogated Hikaru in a voice barely below a shout. The crowds of dark-suited people passing by glanced at the group before scurrying on, reluctant to get involved.

"Did she leave before you got there?" worried Kaoru, "Maybe we should send someone to the train station to meet her."

Kyoya stood still under the mix of worried and accusing gazes from the four men surrounding him. Unable to speak, he only breathed in and out slowly; wrapping a veneer of calm around himself as a shield.

Honey peered up at him with innocent eyes full of sorrow and clutched Usa-chan tightly to his chest. "I don't think that's it," he said in the voice that always reminded everyone of his true age. "Kyo-chan, why isn't Haru-chan with you?"

"She…" Kyoya paused, swallowed, and pushed his glasses up as a barrier against the world, "She wasn't there. I don't think she will be coming."

"What!" Hikaru burst out, "Why not? Why wasn't she there?" Mori's comforting and restraining hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Tears welled up behind Honey's large brown eyes and threatened to slip down the tracks already on his cheeks. "I think Haru-chan may have decided to go away for a while, right Kyo-chan?"

Kyoya only nodded in response.

"We have to go find her!" This time it was Karou who exploded, flying towards the shadow king with arms outstretched to grab him. He was barely stopped by Honey's strong arms around his waist.

"Why bother?" Hikaru shrugged off Mori's hand and angrily wiped away tears. "Face it Kaoru, she's abandoned us."

Kaoru pulled away from Honey and reached out towards his brother, grasping him in a tight embrace. "Haruhi wouldn't do that. Not without a reason."

"Takashi and I think that if Haru-chan left it must be because she's really sad."

"Hn."

"But it's us!" protested Hikaru against his brother's neck. "We're her best friends. We'd be there for her."

Honey snuffled noisily into Usa-chan's head, prompting his cousin to rest his large hand on top of the golden curls. "We think it might be too painful for her too be around us right now."

"She'll be back when she's ready," pronounced Mori.

"But what are we supposed to do?" Karou protested, "We can't just leave her on her own!"

"We won't." Kyoya's cool tone cut through the outbursts. "I will find out where she is after…" Kyoya took a deep breath and shoved every ounce of his own pain, distress, and confusion into a box deep within his heart then locked it tight and threw away the key. "I'll make sure she is safe but… but we will respect her wishes and leave her alone until she is ready to return to us."

He surveyed the men surrounding him. The pain and sorrow that had been etched on their faces for days was now even deeper at this second unexpected loss. _Damn_ her. Damn her for leaving them all behind when they needed her the most.

Alone of all of them, he knew he had to keep it together. His role had always been to make sure their little family continued to function no matter what. He would not be derelict in his duty today of all days. He was the Mommy and he'd make sure they carried on.

Adjusting the cuffs of his suit, he fixed the rest with a firm gaze that brooked no opposition. "For now, though, we are going to pull ourselves together, go in there, and try to comfort the Suoh's on the loss of their only son."


	2. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sections in italics are memories (dialogue pulled from the anime/manga)

_January, five years later_

Unnaturally blue eyes peered up at her full of unshed tears. "Manager, please, please, please, take my shift for me tonight!" Saki pleaded with hands pressed together in supplication. "My boyfriend doesn't have to work today and we haven't seen each other in almost three days!"

Haruhi had been thirty minutes away from the end of her Tuesday shift when the girl dashed in and begged to be let off. Now the teenager stood in front of her, hands clasped and giving her best puppy dog eyes, never realizing that her manager was completely immune.

The girl's colored contacts were simply the wrong shade of blue.

She didn't laugh at the distraught girl, forced to go _three whole days_ without seeing the one she loved. Though it _was_ tempting. But she did have to turn her head to the side so Saki wouldn't see her eyes rolling and teeth biting down on her tongue.

Had she ever been that young and carefree? Probably not. Work, study, responsibilities. Those had always come before play. A wave of sadness hit her. She really should have played more when she had the chance.

_Kami,_ she must be getting sentimental in her old age to even consider it. Her feet hurt, her lower back ached, and it would be nice to actually be able to cook dinner tonight instead of reheat something in the microwave. Maybe even take a bath instead of a two-minute shower. Still, the extra hours would be nice even if the salary was lower. Her father's life insurance policy and the meager savings she'd built up would be running out soon. With graduate school looming, she needed every penny she could get.

It wouldn't come to much more than five thousand yen, but that was groceries for a week, or a used textbook, or even a good black skirt to replace the ripped one she couldn't patch. The last one clinched it. The skirt had to be good quality. With a little luck she might even find a marked-down designer brand at the local consignment shop. To think she'd once considered that unnecessary.

_. . ._

" _Why should I care about appearances and labels anyway? I mean, all that really matters is what's on the inside, right?"_

" _It's a cruel reality, isn't it?_ _It's not often that God creates a perfect person like moi. Beautiful both inside and out. I understand how you feel, since not everyone is as blessed as I am."_

_. . ._

A smile briefly graced her lips before she shoved the memory back into the hole it had come out of and forced herself to focus on the present. Fixing the girl with her best 'supervisor' look she replied, "Fine, but I need you to take a double shift next Thursday. I'll be out all day."

"Oh, thank you!" Saki gave her an enthusiastic and entirely workplace inappropriate hug that pinned Haruhi's arms to her side. "You're the nicest, kindest, manager ever!"

The young girl's mouth dropped open and eyes widened when her manager's words finished registering. "Out all day? Manager, do you have another interview?"

Haruhi flushed slightly with excitement. "Yes, there's a firm looking for a part-time assistant to their paralegal. It's an afternoon shift three days a week so I can take classes in the morning and still work here."

The teenager's mood whip-lashed back to dismay. "But what about tutoring? My younger brother's sitting for the high school exams next year and my family is hoping you can take him on." Saki's eyes were once again in puppy dog mode and she wrung her hands in distress. "You've got the best success rate of any tutor in Sapporo!"

Haruhi laughed and barely resisted patting the child on her head. Saki's mood changed from one extreme to another at a dizzying pace, but there was something so comfortably familiar about it that she couldn't get annoyed. "I'll find time somehow. Have your parents get in touch with me, my schedule will fill up soon."

A person could live on four hours of sleep, right? She was sure she'd read that somewhere.

Saki nodded eagerly. "I will. _Ganbatte_ Manager!" The girl gave her boss another quick hug. "I know your interview will go well and they'll pick you. You're the smartest person I know!" The high-schooler looked at her watch and ran out the door, calling out "Thanks again!" over her shoulder.

Haruhi sighed and shook her head once again. That girl made her feel like a middle-aged woman. Actually, that wasn't fair. Most middle-aged women probably had both more energy _and_ a more active social life than she did.

Before clocking out of her managerial shift, she took the time to survey the front area of the café. Circles of light from LED candles glistened on the pale wood tables surrounded by comfortably upholstered chairs and sofas. The overhead lighting was just bright enough to make the place relaxing, but not so romantic that it would only attract couples. At this time of day, it was only lightly occupied. It was too long after school ended for the teenagers and not quite late enough for the after dinner crowd to begin arriving. If the light snow falling outside grew heavier they could be in for a slow night.

She made a quick call on her cell phone and then systematically moved around the store checking off each of the shift hand-off tasks on her clipboard. Pulling the take-out menus near the cash register out of their wire rack she shuffled them together until they were more neatly aligned. On the cover, a bright pink cartoon rabbit waved and smiled at her under the words "Honey Bunny's" in ornate English letters. She smiled wistfully back.

When the brand new Sapporo branch of what was currently the hottest chain in Japan opened up last November, Haruhi had jumped at the chance to apply. Not only was the pay better than her previous job at a family restaurant, the healthcare and dental benefits were almost too good to be true. She still hadn't gotten used to the extra demands the manager position made on her time, but she was sure she'd adapt soon. The exhausted feeling always hovering at the edge of her consciousness was bound to go away as soon as she'd built up more stamina.

A check of the large glass case next to the register which was filled with pastries revealed a couple shortfalls so she moved to the small kitchen in the rear to prepare extras. Expertly, she sliced a large rectangular strawberry and sponge layered cake into smaller pieces and arrayed them in paper wrappers. At least she didn't need to worry about eating the merchandise _._ As good as she knew the products they sold to be, sweets held even less appeal for her now.

_. . ._

" _Haru-chan, choose a cake. There's strawberry, and chocolate, and cheesecake…"_

" _Oh, I can choose first? That's unusual. Hmmm. Then… st... strawberry!"_

" _Then Haru-chan, Takashi and I are strawberry. Everyone else just eat what you want."_

_. . ._

She pushed this memory away with firmness borne of nearly six years practice. _Dammit._ Why did it have to be strawberry? It used to be her favorite. Now it just tasted like smoke and ash.

She carried the tray with the confections out front and restocked the counter. A blast of cold air hit her as the door opened and a laughing couple came in, stamping the snow off their boots and brushing it off their shoulders. Haruhi shivered at the drop in temperature. No matter what anyone said, five years was still not long enough to become accustomed to the cold.

She should have gone to Okinawa instead. Too bad their university wasn't as good. At least in Sapporo, she didn't have to worry about ever running into a former classmate. The wealthy bypassed this town and headed straight for the mountains.

The customers and the clock reminded her it was time to change so she headed back to the dressing rooms. When acting as manager, she could get away with wearing black slacks and a white "Honey Bunny's" polo shirt with embroidered rabbit on the left breast. But upper management was _very_ particular about how the waitresses dressed. If the salary and healthcare were the best part about this job, the uniform she had to wear when acting as a server was hands down the worst.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she looked at herself in the mirror. It wasn't _just_ that the uniform was pink with a white apron. It wasn't even the way the petticoats under the skirt made it billow out and resemble something out of a maid café. No. What _really_ made her contemplate quitting every single damn time were the pair of pink bunny ears perched on her head that went with it.

The things she did for law school.

. . .

" _We'll send Usa-chan to the cleaners. Haruhi, you're going to have to wear the bunny suit."_

" _Forget about it, I'm not wearing that stupid bunny suit! It's not gonna work! He'll know it's me!"_

" _No, he won't. He won't be able to tell the difference if he's just waking up from a nap."_

" _Well, then why don't you wear it, sempai?"_

" _It won't be cute if I wear it! "_

. . .

She just couldn't stop herself today. It was probably stupid to work at a cake shop with a pink bunny as a mascot. Since she'd started, it had been impossible to keep the memories entirely at bay. But, even without the pay and benefits, there was something about being in the store that felt comforting. Something that almost felt like home.

She adjusted the ear-bedecked headband, making sure to bobby pin it tightly to her hair and went to clock back in as a waitress. The assistant manager was just arriving through the back door. He was late, as usual. The boy's face fell in dismay when he saw her still there.

"Manager," he greeted coldly. "Working another shift?"

"I exchanged shifts with Saki-san, Assistant Manager," she replied formally, "I have a conflict next Thursday."

If anything, his face grew grimmer with that announcement. "Fine. Just don't forget that I'm in charge this shift."

"Of course." Haruhi turned her back to him and headed towards the dining area. The kid was barely twenty and too immature to deal with any challenge to his 'authority.' Idiot. As if being an assistant manager for a cake shop gave someone any actual power outside these four walls. Once she'd know children who could command forces and influence he couldn't even begin to imagine.

But that was a long time ago - the past was another country. And besides, that girl was dead.

Out front, the after-dinner crowd was beginning to trickle in and a few customers were now seated at Saki's tables. Grabbing her pad, she went to take their orders. The giggling young couple at her first table were to wrapped up in each other to look at her when they ordered coffees and a chocolate cake to share. Instead of rolling her eyes behind their back, she felt a soppy smile form on her face.

What was with her today?

Thankfully, the three Botoxed and blown-out women having a girl's night out brought her back to reality. She didn't correct them when they snobbishly ordered Limoncello gelatos under the mistaken belief that they had fewer calories than anything else on the menu.

From there her evening became a whirl of activity that threatened to never stop. Three hours into her shift, she was just returning from another restocking run in the kitchen when one of the other servers came up to her in a flutter of excitement. "Manager, come with me!" The girl grabbed Haruhi by the hand, pulling her through the backroom and straight to the dressing room.

She started adjusting Haruhi's uniform and tucking back stray bits of hair. "You'll never believe it!" she enthused while retying the bow on her manager's apron. "A man just came in and asked to be seated in _your_ section." Haruhi tried to push the girl's hands away but she was relentless. "A real hottie too. Do you have a boyfriend?"

The news made Haruhi's stomach drop. This wasn't the first time this had happened in the last few years. Sometimes it was a customer, sometimes a classmate. Always it was someone who wouldn't take 'I'm sorry' for an answer.

If it was who she thought it was this time, then it could get complicated. Lately one of her assistant professors had become pretty insistent about wanting to date her. She couldn't be rude or it might affect her grade, or worse. One of her scholarships was awarded at the discretion of the University staff.

Squaring her shoulders, she thanked the server and went to go be polite, but firm. She'd just have to tell him the truth - she already had a man in her life. Only the most persistent kept after her once she revealed that fact.

He was sitting at the table nearest the door perusing the menu with his back towards her. But, the closer she got, the more something seemed off. For one thing, the suit he wore and the wool coat draped over the chair next to him were too expensive for a teacher without tenure.

The nearer she approached, the more her steps unconsciously slowed. Her stomach started roiling with outright fear and her hind-brain frantically signaled that she should turn around and run. It couldn't be, but…

There was no way. _Nobody_ came to Sapporo. That was the whole point of her being here! Besides, this man was taller, his shoulders broader and his frame more filled in. And the hair was all wrong, too. The top was shorter and the sides longer, but mostly it was too unkempt. He would never wear it that way. It simply couldn't be…

But somehow, she knew it was.

Instinctively, she turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction. Someone else could take this table. She had to get out of here now!

"Run away if you want, but I still have an excellent staff," drawled the man before she could take one step. Every single memory that she had tried so hard to forget came crashing back at the sound of his smooth tenor. "I don't suppose you kept your passport current?"

_Oh crap_!


	3. Secrets

Haruhi walked towards the table slowly. With every step, another curse reverberated through her brain.

_Crap. Crap. Crap._

How did he find her? Okay, that was a stupid question. It wasn't like she'd put much effort into hiding lately. The real question was why was he here at all? After the first year, she'd finally relaxed and stopped being terrified that any day they would show up on her doorstep to drag her back. As time moved on, she began to believe it would never happen.

She'd hurt them too much.

But, then, why hadn't he stayed away? Was he here to punish her or… Fear curled around her spine and settled in her stomach. How was the Shadow King going to upend her life this time?

No matter how much she had tried to drag out her journey, the scant five steps to the table were over far too quickly. She forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to act ashamed. Everything she had done was necessary.

Kyoya's eyes raked over her from head to toe and then back up to the ever-loving bunny ears. He didn't even try to hide his smirk. The words ' _welcome to Honey Bunny's'_ died on her lips and she ground out, "What are you doing here?" instead.

"Ordering some tea." If anything, his smirk got wider. Supercilious rich bastard. "Do you have white?"

"Just green and black." She smiled at him through clenched teeth. "What are you doing in Sapporo?"

"I'm investigating partnership opportunities with local organic meat and produce providers. Hokkaido has some excellent pasture raised pork and beef." He studied the cheap plastic coated menu carefully. "What types of green do you offer?"

"Gunpowder, Long Jing, and Sencha." Which he should know, because he was looking right at that section. What the hell was he up to?

"I'd prefer Gyokuro but I suppose the Sencha will do." He closed the menu and handed it to her. "What time do you get off, Haruhi?"

"We're not allowed to answer personal questions from customers, sir." She put as much disdain into that last word as she dared. "One pot of Sencha coming up." Pivoting on her heel, she turned to get away from him as fast as possible.

"Haruhi!" He reached out his hand to grasp her wrist, halting her in her tracks. "I'm sorry if seeing me has disturbed you – but I would really like to talk with you." His eyes met hers and for one second he dropped his mask. "Please."

It was the 'please' that did it. That cut right through her defenses. She could count on one hand the number of times he'd said that word and meant it as anything more than superficial politeness. Her shoulders relaxed as the fight went out of her. "I'm off at ten-thirty. I can stay for a short time after."

Violet-blue puppy dog eyes and a sincere Shadow King. Two things she had no immunity towards. All she needed was a rabbit-clutching sugar fiend to show up and complete the trifecta.

"Ten-thirty it is." He released his grip and stood, grabbing his coat and gloves from the chair next to him. "I've changed my mind on the tea; I'll leave you to your work." With a polite nod, he donned his outerwear and exited the café without looking back.

The minute he left, Kyoya moved away from the storefront and imperceptibly sagged against the neighboring wall where she wouldn't see. Closing his eyes, he tilted his face up and let the falling snow kiss his cheeks while he regained his breath and forced his hands to stop shaking.

None of the pictures he'd been sent over the years had done her justice. She'd always been attractive, sometimes even cute, with an endearingly coltish grace. Now? She was so damn beautiful it hurt. Photographs shot through a long-range viewfinder hadn't captured how her shoulder-length hair softened her face. Or the poise she had even when wearing that ridiculous outfit.

Or the fatigue in her eyes.

It had taken every bit of training he'd had at hiding his emotions to keep from grabbing her and hauling her back to where she belonged. But time hadn't changed her that much. This was still Haruhi. Stubborn, independent, and completely oblivious Haruhi. He would have to use the right combination of persuasion and threats to get her to do what was in her own best interests. Above all, he had to let her feel as if she were making her own choices even if it was under duress. But if he pushed her too far…

If he pushed her too far, he risked losing her forever.

* * *

At ten-o-clock, Haruhi flipped the closed sign and offered to handle the clean-up instead of the assistant manager. He'd looked at her suspiciously, trying to figure out if this was some ploy, but was too inherently lazy to turn down a chance to leave early. Fifteen minutes later, she was alone in the building. The first thing he did was unpin the headband and drop it on the counter. There was no way she was having _this_ discussion wearing a pair of effing bunny ears.

Wiping down tables and sweeping the floor couldn't keep her mind distracted from the conversation to come. How much did he know?

Who was she kidding, it was Kyoya. If he wanted to, he could find out how much she'd paid last year in taxes, what she'd had for breakfast last Tuesday, and her bra size. If he didn't know all that already. But she'd been very careful, so maybe…

The tap on the glass promptly at ten-thirty interrupted her spiraling anxiety and she unlocked the door to let him in. The snow had gotten heavier and he politely apologized for dripping on the clean floor as he hung up his coat.

"Would you like that tea now, Kyoya-sempai?" she asked, gesturing him to take a seat at the table nearest the display case.

"Please, don't trouble yourself."

"No trouble, I was going to make some for myself."

"Then, yes. Tea would be nice."

She moved behind the counter and set up a tray with a bone-white English style teapot and cups. Under the cover of prepping the tea, she took the time to study her unexpected visitor. Earlier, she had been too nervous to notice all the changes time had wrought.

When she'd left, he'd already been turning from boy to man but the years had completed the effort. Gone was the softness in his face and the delicate thinness of his frame, replaced with hard angles and a solidity that radiated power. But it was something else that made him truly seem different, something so subtle she couldn't quite figure it out.

Putting the finishing touches on the tray Haruhi tried to put her finger on what was nagging her. Giving him another look from under her lashes it suddenly hit her – the air of tension that had vibrated through him as long as she had known him was missing. Sitting there, hands folded on the table waiting for his tea, he seemed almost… content?

Tray ready and tea properly steeped, she set the tray before him, sat down and took a sip from her cup to compose herself before launching her first attack. "You coming here wasn't a coincidence, was it."

Kyoya's mouth turned up in a small smile. She was as blunt as always. "No."

"How long have you known where I was?"

"Almost from the start." He took a sip of his beverage and gave her a small nod of approval. The taste was perfect. "It's very difficult to disappear these days, especially if you don't change your name."

Haruhi wrapped her hands around her cup as if seeking to draw its warmth into herself. "Do the others know?" Her voice trembled slightly.

"They know you are safe, but they agreed to leave you alone until you were ready."

"Do…" She swallowed hard and forced out the rest of the question in a whisper. "Do they hate me?"

Kyoya put his cup down and shook his head slowly. "Haruhi, they could never hate you."

She closed her eyes and let out the breath she'd unconsciously been holding.

"Mori and Honey were disappointed," he continued, "but assumed you needed some time alone. The twins… Well, they were very hurt for a while. Now they've accepted that you just couldn't face your memories."

There was someone missing from his reply. Haruhi turned her direct brown eyes on him. "What about you, Sempai?" She'd always known that her leaving would hurt him the most.

Kyoya took another sip before answering. "At first I was furious," he admitted. "Honey and Mori have each other and the twins exist in their own world. You were the closest person to me after Tamaki and I couldn't believe your selfishness. I lost both of my best friends in the same week." He took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye. "But then I came to understand your reasons."

Haruhi's cup clattered as she set it down. She dropped her hands to her lap and clenched them together so he wouldn't see them shaking. He knew. She was sure he knew. "After all these years, why do you show up now?" she asked nervously.

Kyoya shrugged. "I was in the area and it seemed time. You're about to go to law school and will have to come back to Tokyo within the next few years for your internship if you want a career in it. Our paths would have crossed eventually. Of course, if you had stayed at Ouran you could have finished graduate and undergraduate studies simultaneously and been practicing already."

"I know" The strength of her high school and first term classes had allowed her to graduate from Hokkaido in three years. "I just wasn't able to handle being around all of you," she half-truthed.

"You could come back and complete your studies at Toudai, I know you have the grades for it." He shot her a look of inquiry, testing the waters. "There would be much better opportunities for internships and future employment as well."

"I'm fine here." Haruhi shook her head vehemently. "I already have my place at Hokkaido and a small scholarship. Sapporo's been good to me. I don't feel the need to go back."

"What about coming back for the rest of the Host Club?"

"I… I'm still not able to be around them." She stared resolutely at her hands, unable to risk meeting his gaze. "Too many memories."

"Your friends miss you, Haruhi," he implored.

"Can't you just let it go?" she shouted, "I'm happy here."

"I see." His tone was dry enough to turn Hokkaido into a desert. "Hard to argue with that."

Silence stretched between them and she fought the urge to fill it. She knew his tactics but she wouldn't fall for them this time.

Kyoya sighed, she was being as stubborn as he expected. He had tried the carrot, now there was only the stick. _Kami_ , he was a bastard to do this to her. "There is one thing I don't believe you are considering, though."

"Really?" Sarcasm dripped off the word. "What's that?"

"People often underestimate how important the right kindergarten can be in preparing a child's academic foundation. A Sapporo public school simply can't compare to Ouran."

Her eyes widened in shock and flew up to meet his. "How?" she demanded. "I was careful! I know none of the doctors or clinics I used had anything to do with Ootori…"

"Give me some credit." He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "It was apparent as soon as you started to show."

Indignation replaced shock at the implication. "You spied on me? You had no right!"

"I had every right!" Tea sloshed over the side of his cup as he slammed it down. Leaning forward, his eyes bored into her as he growled, "He was my best friend. Do you really think I don't have an obligation to look after the people he cared about?"

"We're fine on our own, we don't need any help!" she shouted back.

Kyoya closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He wouldn't get anywhere yelling at her. He almost felt sorry for her when he opened his eyes and played his trump card. "Yes, you do. More than you realize. I'm not the only person who can track you down and count backwards nine months."

"They… they know?" He hated seeing fear in her eyes. Hated even more that he was the one who put it there. "How? Did you tell them?"

"Of course I didn't. I had hoped you'd learned to trust me a bit more by now."

His statement cut through her anger at him. He was manipulative and controlling, but he didn't betray his friends. "It was when I enrolled at Hokkaido, wasn't it?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yuzuru-san was always fond of you. When your school records were transferred to Hokkaido he sent someone to check up on you. Imagine his surprise when he received reports of you walking around the neighborhood with a young boy of a suspiciously appropriate age. At the time, Shizue-san was still alive and neither of us could be certain what would happen if she knew. I'm sure you remember how strong her obsession with the Suoh family line was. It was easy to convince him to let you be, but lately he's growing impatient and Anne-Sophie longs to see her grandson."

"There's… there's no proof." She grasped onto that fact as her lifeline. "He was never on their family register and they have no legal claim on him. He's mine! They are not taking him away from me!"

"Haruhi, the Suoh's are one of the wealthiest families in Japan. You should have no illusions of just how difficult they can make things if you withhold something they want."

"Is that why you came?" Bile rose up in the back of her throat as she spit out the accusation. "To be Suoh's dog and lay down an ultimatum?"

"No. I came to let you know the reality of the situation and offer my assistance." His gaze was filled with sympathy and it brought home the precariousness of her position more than his words. "You have friends, Haruhi. Back then we were children, but now the five of us have power and influence of our own. Power and influence we'd be willing to put at your disposal should you need it. If you come back voluntarily you'll be able to set your terms and we can help guarantee them.

He let that sink in for a minute before continuing. "Would it be so bad? Yuzuru-san and Anne-Sophie loved Tamaki and they would treasure both of you."

Haruhi laughed bleakly. "Look at what that love did to him! Ripped him away from everything he knew. Forced him to live in a house filled with servants instead of family. Wouldn't let him contact his sick mother, wouldn't even let him know of her fate for years. I don't know what you call that, but it wasn't love."

"Shizue-san…"

"It wasn't just his grandmother!" She cut off the argument he'd been about to make. "His father allowed every single one of her actions just so he could have an heir. And the worst is that they used Tamaki's love for his mother and his desire to be accepted against him. To get him to do what _they_ wanted." Haruhi's outburst petered out, leaving her drained and weary to the core. "In the end, the rich love Family at the cost of the very people who are part of it. I won't let my son become a pawn in the game."

Kyoya resisted his urge to sweep her into his arms and tell her it would all be okay. She looked so tired. So lost and alone. He reached out and covered her hands with his and squeezed them gently. When she finally looked up at him he caught her eyes and let her see every ounce of sincerity he possessed. "I promise that I will not allow that to happen either. I'm not asking you to trust them, but please trust me. Trust all of us."

Haruhi was too overwhelmed to even respond. In less than half-an-hour the life she'd spent years building for herself had been blown away. Her 'new life' had been nothing but a house of straw built on sand. Like the three little pigs. Or bunnies, as the case may be. A mental picture of Kyoya in wolf ears menacing Usa-chan sprang readily to mind and she choked back hysteria-tinged giggles.

As if sensing she'd had enough, Kyoya stood to take his leave. "Thank you for the tea." He smiled down at her wryly. "I'd offer you a ride, but you'd only turn me down." Pulling out a card case, he snapped it open and withdrew a small white rectangle which he placed before her on the table. "This is my contact information in Sapporo. I'll be here until _all_ of my business is concluded."

He walked over to the coat rack and took his time putting on his coat and gloves before winding his scarf around his neck. "Haruhi, take what time you need to accept it, but your exile in this frozen wasteland is over. I'm here to bring you home." On that warning, he turned and headed out the door into the snow.


	4. Decisions

"Ootori-sama, the young lady has left the café." The disembodied voice over the car intercom jolted Kyoya back to the present and out of the mental replay of their conversation which had stuck on a continuous loop. "Should I have some of the security team follow her?"

He looked out the window and watched Haruhi trudge off towards the train station in a silver parka that had seen better days. The mottled grey worked as camouflage and soon he had to strain his eyes to separate her figure from the falling snow. "No, Tachibana-kun, that isn't necessary. She's safe enough where she's going."

His eyes continued to follow the figure long after it had disappeared from sight.

* * *

Haruhi stomped her feet against the train platform to keep warm and thrust her hands deep within her pockets. She probably should have accepted the ride Kyoya'd teased her with. Briefly, she drifted off into a daydream featuring a warm car and a short commute. It probably even had heated seats. Rich bastard.

' _I'm here to bring you home.'_

Haruhi clenched her fists tight within the pockets of her coat as his words echoed through her skull. "That cold-blooded, manipulative, son-of-a…" she muttered under her breath. The few late-night commuters around her discreetly moved away and she switched to fuming silently. He just waltzed in and destroyed everything with a few sentences and then had the arrogance to act like he was doing her a favor.

But…

She stopped her mental diatribe. But if it _was_ true, if Suoh Yuzuru _did_ know about Daiki? Then being angry at Kyoya was just shooting the messenger.

A smug, high-handed, Machiavellian messenger.

The train pulled up and she took a seat in a nearly empty car. She plucked one of her textbooks out from her satchel to read during the forty minutes of uninterrupted study time. When she had read the same sentence three times without remembering a word of it she shut the book and gazed off into the dark outside the window. Different futures presented themselves in her mind before twirling away like the snowflakes still falling up above. In one, she lived a normal life in Hokkaido and Daiki spent his summer vacations visiting loving grandparents. In another, she stood outside the gates of the Suoh mansion hoping to catch a glimpse of the son who'd been ripped away from her.

The images didn't stop until she reached her destination and emerged back into the snow covered world above. Light and noise from the bars and pachinko parlors lining the street spilled out onto the sidewalk and gave it an illusion of warmth. The touts, huddled in the doorways shielding their cigarettes from the wind with bare hands, barely looked up at her as she passed. She turned off the main road and entered a different world. The falling snow muffled the sounds of the busy street she'd left and a few scattered streetlights created islands of light which dotted the way home. Haruhi's boots crunched on the light dusting of unshoveled snow which hid the cracks in the sidewalk and covered yards that were more weed than grass. It couldn't disguise peeling paint and patched concrete or the piles of broken items shoved against walls by residents reluctant to throw out anything that might one day be useful.

Three blocks off the main road her small, three-story apartment complex came into view. Up in the top right-most unit, a light was on where her neighbor, Maria, would be waiting for her. On the ground floor, outside the middle unit, she could just make out a vague figure sitting on an overturned wooden crate. No matter what time she came home, someone was always sitting outside there smoking a cigarette. The thirty-something man leapt to his feet as soon as he saw her, nearly banging his head against the low ceiling. "Good evening, Fujioka-san." He bowed deeply.

"Good evening, Sato-san." She bowed in return and smiled pleasantly. Sato looked like a boxer who'd gone one too many rounds, but he and his roommate doted on the children in the complex and were always bringing home small treats for them. "You're up late."

"Ano… I couldn't sleep." The man shuffled his large feet and looked at the ground. "Pretty lady like you shouldn't be walking alone so late at night. Did anyone bother you, Fujioka-san?" The childlike worry in his eyes when he asked softened the fierceness of his face.

"Of course not, Sato-san. Nobody ever bothers me."

"Tha's good. Some people these days don't show proper respect an' all. You let me know if someone don't know how to treat a lady, ne?"

Haruhi resisted chuckling at the familiar demand. Sato looked out for both her and Maria like a mother hen. "I will. I know we can depend on you." She bowed farewell and moved to head up the stairs. "Good night, Sato-san."

"A guy was sniffin' around your place earlier," he called out and she turned back to face him. Sato furrowed his Neanderthal brow and narrowed his large lips into a grim line. "Want me to scare him off?"

"Was he a tall man with dark hair, glasses and an expensive suit?"

Sato scratched the scar running down the side of his face thoughtfully then shook his head. "Nah. Dark hair and glasses, but kind of short and scruffy looking."

She sighed and wished she could rub out the headache which formed. It had to be the persistent assistant professor. "No, that could cause trouble for me at the University." Sato pursed his lips at her answer and she hurried to reassure him. "But it was very sweet of you to offer."

The large man's face split in a wide smile at her praise. "If the rich-guy comes 'round, want me to scare him?" he asked hopefully.

"No. He's a… he's an old friend." She smiled back at her helpful neighbor who always made her think of a large, friendly dog. "I need to get Dai-chan to his own bed. Good night Sato-san."

"Good night, Fujioka-san." Sato bowed again and watched until she'd disappeared up the stairs. Behind him, the door to the apartment opened and his partner emerged.

"Fujioka-san get home okay?" The short, ferret-like man asked.

"Yeah. She sure is a nice lady Tanaka"

His friend clapped Sato on the shoulder. "Sure is, brother. But the orders to look out for her came from the Big Boss himself." Tanaka shook his head and looked at the steps too. "Someone like that isn't meant for foot soldiers like us."

Sato took a long drag of his cigarette, still staring at the steps as if he could will Haruhi to appear on them. "Yeah, I know." Sato tossed aside the still glowing cigarette butt and turned to head inside. "I like 'em with more meat on their bones anyway." The two men disappeared back into their apartment and the light flicked off soon after.

Up on the third floor, Haruhi picked her way around a pile of trash in front of the apartment to the left of hers. The dark window assured her that neither of the occupants were home. Hopefully, tonight they wouldn't wake her at four in the morning with another screaming fight. The wanna-be rockstar and his hostess girlfriend expressed both extremes of their love/hate relationship at the top of their lungs. Good thing Daiki was a very sound sleeper.

Moving past her apartment to that of her neighbor on the right, she rapped lightly on the door. The plump Filipina matron who opened it smiled broadly. "Haruhi-chan, please come in." She stepped back and to the side to allow the younger woman to enter.

" _Ojamashimasu_." Haruhi entered the apartment but didn't take off her shoes or move past the entryway. "Thank you for looking after Dai-chan without notice this evening. I'm sorry to trouble you."

Maria dismissed the apology with a wave of her hand. "He's never any trouble. Besides," the woman laughed, "I have so many underfoot I don't even notice one more."

"I… I really mean it, Maria-chan," Haruhi said intensely. She had an eerie feeling that this could be one of the last times they spoke. "I don't know what we would have done without all the help you've given me."

Maria's sharp eyes took in the strained look on the younger woman's face. "Haruhi-chan, is everything okay? You've been looking tired lately but tonight you seem worried."

Haruhi shrugged off the question. "I'm fine. I just wanted you to know I'm grateful."

"Well," Maria replied, fluttering her hands awkwardly at the unusual burst of emotion from her stoic neighbor, "you've more than repaid me. You gave me the advice I needed to get my no-good ex-husband to pay some child support and thanks to your tutoring my son is at a good high school on a full scholarship. I should be the one thanking you."

With that, the woman disappeared into one of the two rooms located off the kitchen and living room and returned with a bundle wrapped in a fuzzy blanket decorated with cartoon frogs. A shock of brown hair stuck up out of the package at crazy angles. "You know," Maria whispered as she handed the sleeping boy over to his mother, "you can always let him spend the night here if you need to."

Haruhi cuddled her son close, adjusting the blanket around his head so the cold wouldn't wake him up. "I know, but sometimes I think night time is the only time I get to be with him." Her heart panged as she thought of all the days she'd missed, all the times he'd been asleep when she came home. "Such a bad mother."

"Nonsense!" Maria's sharp reprimand caused the boy to stir and she immediately lowered it. "Everything you are doing is so you can give him a better life. He's a good boy and he understands."

The young mother hugged her son tight and smiled sadly. "I hope so."

Maria reached her arm out and patted the girl's shoulder. "Haruhi-chan, if you need anything from me. Anything at all, you only need to ask. Even if it's just a pair of ears to listen."

"I know. Thank you, Maria-chan." Haruhi gave her friend the most reassuring smile she could. "I'm done with my tutoring jobs at seven tomorrow so I can help Erica with her exam prep at eight. Good night."

"Good night. I'll be sure to send her over with some fresh made _lumpia_ for a snack."

Outside in the cold, Haruhi supported the arm holding Daiki against the wall and unlocked the door with her right. A gust of wind pushed aside the edge of the blanket and the cold air on his face made him stir and groggily open his eyes. "Mama! Welcome home!"

Her heart swelled as his violet-blue eyes met hers. "I'm back, Dai-chan."

His eyes fluttered closed again and he snuggled up against her shoulder. Once inside, she had to set him down so she could remove her boots and coat. Without a word, he staggered over to the _kotatsu_ dominating their one room apartment, flipped on the electric heater, and crawled under the thick blanket. Within seconds he was back asleep.

Shivering against the cold air of the unheated apartment, Haruhi pulled out her phone and placed a call. "It's Fujioka," she told the voice on the other end. "I need to talk to the boss."

She prepped some rice in the cooker and set the timer for the morning as news of her call worked its way through numerous gatekeepers until it reached her target. "Haruhi-kun?" The voice on the other end was tight with concern. "What are you doing calling this late? Why aren't you using a burner phone?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Ritsu-kun. They… they found us."

"Who?" Kasanoda barked, shifting instantly into his role as a leader of men.

"Kyoya-sempai. But he says…" Haruhi choked slightly. "He says the Suoh's know about Dai-chan."

There was a brief pause on the other end. "What do you want to do?"

"I…" Haruhi sank down against the kitchen cabinet, wrapping one arm around her knees. "I don't know."

"Haruhi-kun," Kasanoda replied gently, "you only have one choice right now. Do you stay or do you run? Everything else comes after that."

With a loud breath, she released the worry that had gripped her body like a vise for the last couple hours. The 'what-ifs' receded to the background. All she had to do was focus on making one decision at a time.

Taking her silence as a response, Kasanoda continued. "If you want to run, it will have to be out of the country. I can get both of you new identities and settle you in some mid-size American city where you should be able to evade a search. But, Haruhi-kun," he warned, "I can't fake high school or college transcripts to the level you'd need to become a lawyer. And if you run this time, it will need to be permanent. If the Suoh's find you, they won't forgive you and they will try to take Dai-kun away."

Haruhi nodded silently before realizing he couldn't see it. "If I decide to do that, when would you need to know?"

"I can have everything setup within three days, a week at most. You'll need to decide quickly, though, before Ootori puts too many men around you for my contacts to get you out of there."

"I'll let you know soon. I need to think it through." Haruhi gnawed on her upper lip. "Ritsu-kun? Thank you for all you've done. Helping me move up her, get settled in… I owe everything to you."

Kasanoda made an awkward-sounding grunt. "I'm only repaying a favor," he said gruffly.

"I'll call you tomorrow with an answer. Give my love to Mei-chan."

"Ah. She has more clothes for Dai-kun, I'll send them through the usual channels. That is if…"

"I know. If I stay. Thanks again, Ritsu-kun. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Haruhi-kun. Stay safe."

She let the phone fall lifelessly from her hand, wrapped both arms tightly around her legs and pressed her forehead to her knees. Rocking back and forth, she tried to breathe as the enormity of the decision before her bore down on her.

What the hell was she going to do?

She scooted over to the small cabinet against the wall and pressed her hands together. "Mother, Father, Tamaki what should I do?" she whispered quietly. Three photos smiled back at her benevolently. "I never intended to keep him hidden forever, but I wanted more time. He needs to be strong enough to enter that world without being destroyed by it. "

Her eyes slid along the line of pictures and fixed on Tamaki's. "He's still so young," she wailed. "He's not old enough to know what's truly important in life. Not mature enough to fight against all the expectations…" Haruhi closed her eyes and cut off her litany of worries. When she reopened them, they glistened with unshed tears. "At Ouran, he will always be the illegitimate child of a _hafu_ and a commoner. Do you really want that for your son?"

She knew it was only fatigue that caused her to imagine the reassurance she saw in those violet-blue eyes. The same eyes she saw every day. And, when she wrapped her arms around herself, it was only loneliness that let her feel strong arms embrace her tightly and a hand gently stroke her hair. For once, she indulged herself and pretended to hear a voice whispering the words she wanted to hear.

' _You've done your best for so long. Daiki will be okay, my Princess, he has your brains and courage… AND he has MY charm and dashing good looks. How could anyone not adore someone created by God to be so perfect?'_ She sobbed out a laugh thinking of how he would have teased away her fears. ' _Besides, he won't be alone. He has a mother who will fight for him like a lion and a really, REALLY, scary uncle to protect him.'_

The illusion made her eyes prickle and she could sense her control shattering. Before she could wake Daiki, Haruhi grabbed the picture off the shrine and clutched it to her chest. Quietly, she opened the door to the apartment's small closet and crawled inside. Curled up in the dark and with no one around to see, she finally let the tears flow.

* * *

Across town, the bespectacled man barely paused in his typing when the cell phone rang. The ringtone told him it was his private line; one only six people in the world had – his sister, the four former hosts, and…

"Ootori-san, its Kasanoda. I hear you visited our friend up north. Is Suoh finally making a move?"

Kyoya took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Not yet. Let's just say I'm working to preempt him."

The Yakuza leader was quiet as he processed this information. "I offered her a way out, if she wants it."

"Are you asking me how I'll respond?" Kyoya's drawled question was met with silence. "I hope I can allay her fears enough that she won't take that option."

"That wasn't an answer, Ootori."

"It's…" Kyoya fiddled with his glasses as he worked out his reply. "It's the only one I can give."

"If she chooses to run again, I won't help you find her." Kasanoda released his breath in a small chuckle. "I like her more than I like you."

Kyoya's mouth pulled upward in a bitter smile. "Understood. Thank you for the warning."

Kasanoda grunted and ended the call.

Kyoya's glasses clicked gently when he tossed them onto the desk. Tilting his head back, he stared blankly at the ceiling and ran a hand through his hair and over the base of his neck.

What the hell was he going to do?

Her running was the major risk of this plan. It was the one thing he couldn't control for. Putting his glasses back on, he gazed at the picture he kept next to his computer no matter where in the world he was. Seven figures lounged on blankets under blooming sakura trees, unable to keep still long enough for a serious portrait. Kyoya reached out and traced the center of the photo where a laughing, blonde man had his arms wrapped tight around the waist of a small brunette. She was blushing at something he had said while next to her two redheads were rolling on the ground in mirth.

Not for the first time, Kyoya felt that the young man's eyes were piercing straight through him and demanding that he put their family back together. Sometimes he could almost hear his best friend's panicky wails.

' _Mommy! Haruhi might be leaving Japan! You HAVE to stop her!'_

"Of course I'm going to stop her. I'm already putting a plan together."

' _But what if she goes away before you can talk to her?'_

"I have at least two or three days to change her mind. Even I couldn't put together a new identity faster than that."

' _Promise me, mon ami, that you will stop her. Don't let her go away and be all alone in a strange country.'_

"It won't happen. Haruhi's always been a fighter. She'll only take that route if she thinks there is no other choice."

' _But…'_

"Trust me, Tamaki. I promised you I will take care of them and I will."

Kyoya shook his head and pushed aside his late night flight of fancy. Turning back to his computer, he assembled the ammunition he'd need to convince her to stay.


	5. Options

Haruhi shivered as she stepped out of the lukewarm shower and wrapped a towel around her. Wiping off the steam from the mirror with a swipe of her palm, she did a quick assessment.

The night had not been good to her.

There was no time to dry her hair this morning and wet hair in a Sapporo winter was just asking to get sick. Good thing this was her off-day at the café and she only had tutoring sessions this afternoon. Her students wouldn't care if she showed up with a ponytail. As for her eyes? Not much she could do there. Better to just leave off makeup rather than draw attention to how puffy they were.

Toweling off as fast as she could, she hurried to get into her clothes. The thick brown leggings and light cream, cowl-necked, cable sweater-dress shielded her skin against the chill. Paired with knee-high boots and a thick brown leather belt she'd look presentable, if not fashionable.

Daiki was already dressed and half-curled under the _kotatsu_ when she finished changing. He'd popped his favorite DVD in the player, one Maria had given him that her kids had outgrown, and was enthusiastically singing along to the theme song while he ate.

" _I realized how great it is to live,_  
_Even if the scar in my heart hurts._  
_An, An, Anpanman, how brave you are._  
_Go! You can protect everyone's dream_ "

He paused briefly when he heard the bathroom door close. "Mama, I made you some _natto_ and rice for breakfast."

Haruhi ruffled his hair with her hand as she walked past. "Thank you, Dai-chan. I'll eat as soon as I've made our _bentos_." Working quickly, she packed the rice into the large section of each box and leftover salted fish, apples, and daikon salad in the smaller dividers. For her son, she cut up a few hot dogs for a treat. She left the boxes open on the counter for the rice to cool down.

"Can I have meatballs in my lunch today?" Daiki asked as he brought his bowl and chopsticks over to the sink. He pulled out a stool from under the counter and stood on it to wash his dishes.

"I already gave you some hot dogs, maybe tomorrow." Haruhi sat down at the _kotatsu_ to eat. " _Itadakimasu_."

"Hot dogs? Yum." The boy jumped off the stool and ran to peer at his lunch, standing up excitedly on tip toes. Just as quickly, his face fell and he bit his bottom lip. "Oh."

"What's wrong? You like hot dogs."

"I do. It's just…" His small voice was nearly a whisper. "My lunch isn't cute. All the other kids have cute _bentos_ every day."

Haruhi refrained from saying that all the other kids at his solidly middle-class pre-school had mothers who stayed home or fathers that shared the work load. She put down her chopsticks and met his disappointed eyes. "I know, Dai-chan. But we talked about this. Remember what I said about days after I work late?"

"That I need to be a big kid and not complain," He replied by rote. Eyes older than his years told her he knew it couldn't be helped. Suddenly his expression brightened. "I can do it! Maria-oba showed me how to cut apples and hot dogs."

Haruhi thought about it, she hadn't been much older than him when she had started cooking for her father. She stood up and pulled out a fruit knife from the drawer. "Okay, why don't you show me," she said and laid the knife next to his lunch box.

Daiki rewarded her with a radiant smile. He pulled the stool over next to her and stood on it. Taking the knife, he carefully pared the apple slices into rough shapes that almost looked like rabbits and sliced along the bottom half of the hot dogs to make octopi. "See?" His face was beaming as he offered her one of the bunny apples.

"Good job. I'm so proud of you." She ruffled his hair and then dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "From now on you can help me make our lunches."

A glance at the clock showed they needed to go. Haruhi hurriedly finished her breakfast, turned off the heater under the _kotatsu_ , and washed her dishes while Daiki put the lids on the bentos, wrapped them up, and put them in their respective backpacks.

"Don't forget to say goodbye," she reminded him as she donned her coat.

Daiki bowed dutifully before the family shrine "Papa, Obaa-chan, Ojii-chan I'm leaving." Haruhi helped him into his coat and boots, took her own leave, and they headed out into the icy Hokkaido morning.

* * *

"Fujioka-san, are you heading to the cafeteria?" The assistant professor stopped her as she was leaving the seminar on 'Sexual Harassment and Civil Litigation Opportunities.' She found his continued attempts to ask out someone who clearly wasn't interested ironic under the circumstances. "Why don't you let me buy you some lunch? We can discuss your program of study for next year."

"I'm sorry, Tsumura-sensei but I have somewhere else to be." Damn it! Now he'd ruined her plans for lunch. "Maybe another time." She left as quickly as she could without being blatantly rude.

Haruhi headed out the university gates and tried to figure out where she could eat. The day was blustery and snow scoured her face anytime she removed the hood of her parka. Eating in a park wasn't an option so it was either pay for a meal or go without. Mentally, she added up how much she needed to get through the rest of the week and compared it to the amount in her wallet. Her stomach grumbled in protest when it realized the result of her calculations and she pressed a hand against it to silence it. Skipping another meal wouldn't kill her.

The public library where she met her pupils would make a good place to wait out the afternoon. There was an extra credit article to read and sum up for one of her classes that she could start on. Head down against the brisk wind, she didn't see the tall man in her path until she walked into him. " _Sumimasen_." She side-stepped around him only to realize he was once again in her way. She looked up into a kind face of a man about her age with brown hair. He was dressed in a heavy black overcoat and struggled to keep his umbrella from blowing away.

The man tilted the umbrella to shield her from the falling snow. "Fujioka-sama, my employer would like to speak with you." He gestured towards the limo waiting nearby. Haruhi groaned. Three guesses who that would be.

"Tell your employer that I got his message last night." She tried to walk around but he moved too quickly and blocked her path.

"I'm very sorry, Fujioka-sama, but I can't let you leave." His friendly face wrinkled in apology but he didn't move a centimeter.

Haruhi stayed where she was, if Kyoya wanted to talk to her he could get out of the damn car like a normal person instead of sending a bodyguard. "I don't recognize you. Are you new?" She could make small talk all day if she had to.

"I'm Tachibana."

"Not the one I know."

"Tachibana-kun is his nephew." A voice slightly more frigid than the air called from the car window. "Tachibana senior was promoted to Head of Security for my family's hospitals. Now will you get in the car before we all freeze to death?"

Haruhi stalked over to the rear door. "I said everything I had to say last night." Tachibana junior hovered nearby as if afraid she would make a sudden break for freedom.

Kyoya sighed and rubbed his hand across his forehead. "If I promise not to say one word about that topic, will you let me take you out to lunch?"

She hesitated, looking for the catch. It had been a really, really long time since she'd last eaten out anywhere that one of her former classmates could afford. Over five years, if she was counting.

"Someone recommended a good sushi place near here," he enticed. When she still stubbornly refused to budge he let out his breath in a huff. "Really, Haruhi, its just lunch. This isn't a kidnapping."

"Could have fooled me," she replied wryly with a pointed look at the guard at her shoulder. Her stomach rumbled again and he gave her a bemused smile. "Fine. But if you start badgering me about moving back to Tokyo I'm leaving."

"No badgering, I promise." He opened the passenger door and scooted over to make room. "I thought lunch would be a good opportunity to catch up. I'd like to find out how you've been and what your life is like here."

She arched her eyebrows at him mockingly. "Didn't your spies keep you well informed enough?"

"I only used them to satisfy myself that the two of you were safe and not in need of anything." The smile tugging up the side of mouth gave his face a rueful expression. "Believe it or not, I did try to leave you your privacy."

It wasn't fair how he could take the fight out of her with a few well-chosen words. Her shoulders relaxed and she marshaled a smile of her own. "So, will there be fancy tuna?" she teased.

"All you can eat."

* * *

Lunch was more pleasant than she'd anticipated. Actually, that was an understatement – it was fun. She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed Kyoya's wry sense of humor and his quick witted observations on nearly any subject. Talking with him was like playing an exhilarating game of verbal 'go' where the board constantly changed colors until the very end.

For most of the meal, he kept the topic centered on her and Daiki's lives. How did she like her studies and her teachers? What were her internship prospects? How was Daiki doing in pre-school? What firms would she like to work at? She noticed he carefully avoided asking anything that touched on her leaving or how she managed to make ends meet.

After the meal ended, they lingered companionably for awhile and sipped some tea. When he wasn't trying to manipulate her, there was something about his presence that relaxed her. Strange how with some people it was almost like you had never been apart.

Haruhi leaned back in her chair and enjoyed the comfortable full feeling in her stomach. "I think I've talked enough about myself. What have you…" She immediately adjusted the question to be less personal. "What has everyone been up to?"

"About what you'd expect." His fingers trailed around the edge of his tea cup as he talked." All of us are working for our family to one degree or another. Honey got married about two years ago."

"Oh! I'm happy for him. Was it to Reiko-chan?"

Kyoya nodded in confirmation. "Mori also recently announced his engagement. She's the heiress to a martial arts equipment manufacturer. They met through an _Omiai_ , but he appears besotted." He considered this and shrugged one shoulder. "Well, as besotted as someone like Mori can appear."

"What about you, Sempai? I thought your father would have arranged a marriage for you by now."

"He tried." Kyoya smirked slightly as he took a sip of his tea. "I told him to go to hell."

Haruhi choked as her tea went down the wrong pipe. He handed her a napkin and she coughed into it trying to regain her breath. "I find that hard to believe," she said when the attack subsided.

"Well, perhaps I didn't use those exact words," he conceded. "I played along for the first couple of marriage interviews. Just long enough to make sure the lady and I were able to mutually reject each other without insult. The third one, though, was a nightmare. Vain, self-centered, unable to articulate a coherent thought on any topic other than shoes or which of her friends was cheating on their husband." A small shudder shook his shoulders at the memory. "After that I told my father that if he could trust my judgment when it came to where to invest his money he could certainly trust it when it came to selecting a wife who would bring merit to our family."

An image of the stiff and unyielding Ootori patriarch appeared in her mind. "I can't imagine your father putting up with that. Didn't it put your chance to become his heir in jeopardy?"

"It might have. But if my father can't see that I'm the best candidate then it is both his and the _zaibatsu's_ loss." He chuckled at her look of horrified astonishment. "Haruhi, games are only enjoyable if they have an end. I have no desire to waste my life jumping through hoop after hoop to earn my father's approval."

"You've changed." She took a long look at him, cataloguing the subtle differences in how he carried himself. "No, that's not quite what I mean. You've grown into yourself, I think. Become more confident and certain about things. The Kyoya-sempai I knew would never have defied his father like that."

"No, I wouldn't have back then. Before..." He stared down into the bottom of his teacup. "I always thought he'd be there," he said quietly, "pulling me out when I'd sunk too far into the abyss of trying to meet my father's expectations." When he returned his gaze to her face the raw emotion in his eyes twisted her heart. "I believed he'd always be there to remind me that power and position are only tools to obtain the things in life you really want. He was supposed to be the person who forced me to see what mattered, who would make me question the cost of my ambition." He paused and she could see the effort he made to close away the glimpse into his heart he'd revealed. "And then, suddenly, he was gone. And I had to learn to be that person for myself."

They had both loved him, that bright golden boy that had burst into their lives like a whirlwind. Of all of his friends, they felt his loss more keenly. But only she had been left with more than just memories to see her through the years. "I'm sorry." Her apology slipped out in a whisper. She could tell that he was confused by it and impulsively she reached out to cover his left hand with her right. "For leaving you alone like that."

He wouldn't look at her as he brushed aside her words with a wave of the hand she wasn't holding. "Haruhi, you were eighteen. You'd barely finished pulling yourself together after Ranka's death only to be hit with all of this. Who knows _what_ the Suoh's would have done had they known; Yuzuru-san was almost crazy with grief. You were pregnant, unwed, with no family, and you weren't even a legal adult. You couldn't have stood against them if they had wanted to raise Daiki-kun as their own."

When his eye came back to hers, the Kyoya who shone through them was every inch the Shadow King. He turned his left hand palm up and squeezed her hand in return. "Haruhi, that was then. Trust me when I say I have more than enough resources to stand against Suoh-san if need be. I can protect both of you."

The determination in his eyes caused her heart to beat faster and a seed of hope struggled to break through ground long ago covered in frost. "How? I thought you weren't interested in the Ootori _zaibatsu_ anymore…" Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

"I still work for my family, advising them on strategic partnerships and investment opportunities. But that isn't what I mean." He released his grip and leaned back, as if considering where to begin. "I came into the trust fund my grandfather left me when I was twenty. Two years later, I'd tripled its value. That allowed me to directly invest in some more eclectic and high risk ventures that attracted my attention."

The pause after that was long enough she knew he was waiting for her to ask. "Like what?"

He raised his fingers one at a time, idly ticking things off as he spoke. "There's a mobile gaming company, an heirloom seed supplier, a line of urban clothing wear, a small manga publisher, and so on." His lips twitched upward as if laughing at a secret joke. "Of course, my most lucrative investment was a chain of cafes serving cake and tea in a relaxed, intimate setting."

Realization dawned. "Honey Bunny's!" she exclaimed with a startled laugh. The amused glint in his eyes told her she'd guessed right. "You invested in Honey Bunny's!" Haruhi's brow wrinkled as the rest of his strange list of investments niggled at her mind. "Wait… games, clothes, manga, cake… these companies are all…"

Kyoya gave her the slight proud smile he used whenever she'd put all the pieces of a puzzle together and she felt a glow of warmth in her chest. "All started by former members of the host club and some select friends."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I'd always wondered about the café, I mean their mascot _is_ a giant pink bunny rabbit! But when I searched online I couldn't find any connection to Honey-sempai."

"You wouldn't have. His family didn't object but they didn't think it went well with their brand. He's a silent partner, although still the majority shareholder."

"I should have known. Even the way the store is laid out." She thought of the upholstered sofas and chairs, the gleaming wood tables, and the soft lighting. "It's a replica of the host club, isn't it?"

His look of approval made her feel as proud a Daiki and his apple bunnies. "With some modifications to meet building codes and with less expensive furniture, but the general layout is the same."

"No wonder I always feel at home there," she said softly. Memories of the third floor music room crowded her head until he broke out of her reverie with a brisk shake. "Games and clothes, that's the twins. Manga… would that be Renge?" He gave a curt nod of confirmation. "I don't know about the seeds, it doesn't sound like something Mori-sempai would be interested in."

"Mori setup a non-profit wildlife sanctuary that a portion of everyone's profits go to. The seed company is Kasanoda-san's project."

Haruhi tilted her head, her brown eyes warm as she understood what he'd done. "You used your money to help everyone realize a dream, didn't you? Something they couldn't do because of their families."

He dismissed the notion with a shrug and sipped his tea. "I assure you every investment was practical and provided a high ROI. Combined they've made me one of the ten wealthiest men in Japan."

She wouldn't let him get away with his self-deprecation. "You always were a nice guy, Sempai. Especially when you pretend that you aren't." Kyoya turned his head away from her gaze and played with his cup. "He would have loved that you were doing this, you know," she said softly and was rewarded by the barest hint of a pleased smile. "I didn't hear anything on that list for you. What's your dream?"

He tilted his head slightly so the light from overhead flashed off his glasses and shielded his eyes. "Mine hasn't been realized yet but plans are in motion. Perhaps someday I'll tell you about it." His voice sounded deeper than normal and held a strange undertone she couldn't quite place.

"It makes me happy to know everyone is doing well." She felt a twinge of regret that she hadn't been there to see them grow and change.

Kyoya pushed up his glasses and looked back at her, once again fully composed. "Speaking of the others, would you allow me to tell them where you are?"

"You promised we wouldn't talk about that," she warned.

"I said I wouldn't badger you about returning home." She scowled at his self-satisfied expression. It was her own fault, she should have read the fine print. "This is a different subject."

"I.. " She almost said yes. But… But what if he called and they didn't come? Just because she had her reasons didn't mean she'd hurt them any less. "No, not yet. I can only do this if I make one decision at a time."

"I understand." She could see from his face that he truly did. "What's the first choice you plan to make?"

"Whether to stay or leave," she stated in an off-hand manner.

He raised his eyebrows at her confession. "Since you're telling me this, can I assume you've made up your mind?"

"Yes. I thought about it all night." She drummed her fingers on the table and stared back into the past. "Tamaki was willing to sacrifice so much for the chance at having his family together. Everything they put him through…" She stopped the nervous tattoo and squared her shoulders. "I know he wouldn't want Dai-chan to never know his grandparents. I'll stay and try to work things out with them."

"I'm glad." Kyoya gave a brief smile and reached down to ruffle around in his briefcase. He pulled out three thick manila envelopes and laid them in the center of the table. "If that's the case, then these might help you with your next decision."

"What are these?" Haruhi eyed them suspiciously and leaned back in her chair as if trying to get away. They might be too small for a bomb, but Kyoya didn't need much to explode her life.

"Options. If you plan to stay in Japan, then you need to decide between Hokkaido and Tokyo. Or even elsewhere if you wish." She opened her mouth and he cut her off before she could say a word. "Not badgering, simply pointing out a fact."

He picked up the fattest envelope and handed it to her. "This is an acceptance letter to Toudai Law School."

"But, admissions started last year." She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Kyoya-sempai I don't want to have my place _anywhere_ bought and paid for."

He looked at her with the disappointment of a professor whose favorite student had failed the midterm. "Haruhi, you scored in the top twenty-five of all applicants taking the law school exam and have a perfect GPA despite working enough for two other people combined. The admissions director practically drooled when I showed him your resume. I simply escalated the timeline; the offer is based on your merits."

She settled back down but continued to stare at him warily.

"Suoh-san has offered to pay for your tuition, housing, and Daiki-kun's education regardless of what you decide. You could qualify for a scholarship to Toudai if you wish, but consider that you might be taking it from someone who has no other way to afford it."

He gestured to the remaining two envelopes. "These are employment opportunities, since you would still be responsible for all expenses other than school and rent. If you wish to move to Tokyo, the first envelope contains a list of Honey Bunny franchises in need of a manager and elite tutoring agencies which provide services to families willing to pay premium rates." He tapped one long finger on first the top envelope and then the bottom. "The second is a list of paid internship opportunities at firms specializing in criminal law."

He held up a hand to forestall what he knew her next objection would be. "I have not contacted any of them, nor have the Suoh's. If you secure employment it will be due to your efforts."

She picked up the envelopes, holding them away from her body like they were live snakes. "You've really thought of everything, haven't you?" she muttered. Among the things she had forgotten was how irritating it felt to have him box her in by his plans yet have no grounds to complain about it. She stuffed the documents into her backpack without caring if they crumpled.

"I do try to anticipate all possible eventualities, yes." This time it was Kyoya who reached out to place his hand on hers. She startled at his touch like a wild animal caught in headlights. "Haruhi, please think carefully about what would be best for the both of you. From what I can tell, there isn't much keeping you here. In our conversation earlier not once did I hear you mention friends or a job you love or connections that would tie you to this city. Don't let fear determine your next step."

She held his eyes for a moment and for one second was tempted to let go of everything and depend on someone else. Was there even a reason she was fighting so hard against him anymore?

Before she could respond, her cell phone rang and she fumbled for it, glad for the interruption. "Excuse me, its Dai-chan's school I need to answer it." The call gave her an excuse to turn her head away from those piercing eyes. " _Hai_. This is Fujioka… Yes… He did what?..." Her voice rose in a panic. "Yes, of course… I'll be there as soon as possible." She ended the call and grabbed her purse, rushing to leave. "I'm sorry, but I need to go."

Kyoya stood and grabbed his coat. "Is there something wrong?"

"Dai-chan…." She shook her head not quite believing what she'd heard. "He got into a fight with another boy… I don't understand. He usually gets along with everyone."

"I'm sure it can be explained." Kyoya gently grasped her elbow and steered her towards the door. "Let me give you a ride. You'll make it there faster than by bus."

Her instinct to say no kicked in but she overruled it. All her reasons for hiding had disappeared in the last twenty-four hours. Kyoya might be a manipulative bastard, and she didn't understand what his end-game could be, but she still trusted him. At least with this. He would never hurt Tamaki's son.

"I'd appreciate that." She could tell her acceptance surprised him and, under different circumstances, she'd exult in having done something he didn't predict. "Besides, I think it's about time the two of you met."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picked a 'favorite tv show' for Daiki at random off a list of popular cartoons and it turned out the song matched the theme of this story and this chapter pretty well. Sometimes serendipity happens. Translation for the 'Anpanman' lyrics is courtesy of Youtube because my Japanese is non-existent.


	6. Stories

"…a mistake… a child of his background…"

The faint sounds of the woman's screech coming from inside the office assaulted Kyoya's ears and made the muscle in his jaw twitch. He wasn't eavesdropping, that would be beneath him, but he couldn't help it if he happened to overhear things while he perused the framed childish artwork displayed on the walls next to the principal's door.

"…no father… sure you've done your best but…"

His hands, loosely clasped behind his back, balled into fists. Out of the corner of his eye he studied the person being discussed behind closed doors. Unruly brown hair flopped down over a face staring resolutely at the floor, hiding it from sight. Most people would note the hunched shoulders and bowed head that painted a portrait of remorse. Kyoya's attention focused on the hands clenching the edge of the chair and the legs swinging back and forth furiously which told a different story.

"They're going to make me say sorry." The child's reedy tenor filled the silence of the hallway with strains of defiance.

Kyoya pursed his lips together to prevent a smile. The stubborn set of the boy's chin was so like his mother's. "What are you supposed to be sorry for?"

Daiki heaved a sigh. "I hit Yuuma-kun."

He stifled the urge to ask if the other child had deserved it. "That _is_ generally something parents and teachers want you to apologize for."

The child's head shot up with a jerk, flipping back his overly long bangs. Outraged violet-blue eyes slammed into Kyoya, catapulting him back ten years and robbing the air from his lungs. "He made Aoi-chan cry! He said she was a fat, little cry-baby. Mama says it's not nice to make someone cry."

"I'm sure she says it's not nice to hit someone either," Kyoya replied blandly once his breath returned to normal.

"But she never said which was more 'portant!" Daiki cried.

The eyes and features were Tamaki's, the expression pure Haruhi. Kyoya swallowed his laugh. He was fairly certain adults weren't supposed to encourage that kind of reasoning, no matter how clever.

"'Sides, I'm not sorry," the boy muttered, crossing his arms and glaring off to the side. "Yuuma-kun is mean and no one else would stop him."

"I don't particularly care whether you apologize or not." Kyoya returned to studying the pictures on the wall. A blue animal that might be a cat or a dog appeared to capture his full attention. "Although, you did cause a great deal of trouble for your mother."

The little face turned the color of the snow outside. "I didn't think about that." He rubbed his feet together and bit his lower lip.

"Our actions always have consequences for the people we care about," Kyoya replied off-handedly. Deciding the ambiguous creature was probably a horse, Kyoya turned back around to face the child. "Whenever I can't regret anything else, I find I can always apologize for that."

Daiki dropped his gaze and looked at the man who'd come in with his mama through his bangs. He was the strangest adult he'd ever met. All the other grown-ups talked to him as if he was a _baby_ instead of nearly five! This one didn't just tell him to forget how he felt and be a 'good boy.' This one _listened._

He turned this new idea over in his head a few times before nodding slowly. Yuuma was a bully and Aoi was the nicest girl in class. Nobody could make him _feel_ sorry for what he did even if they made him say it. But… Mama worked very hard and she had to come all the way from school to talk to his teacher. He just hadn't known what else to do!

His new friend didn't seem like someone who would make _his_ mama worry. "What would…" Daiki trailed off, realizing he didn't know the stranger's name. Jumping to his feet, he did his best to remember what you said to an adult you hadn't met. " _Hajimemashite_ , I am Fujioka Daiki, _yoroshiku onega… onega_ …" He stumbled over the unfamiliar formality.

" _Onegaishimasu_ ," supplied the man.

" _Yoroshiku onegashimasu_."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Daiki-kun. I am Ootori." The man's bow was perfect. Like a character out of the history shows Maria watched.

"What would Ootori-san do? If someone made a person cry?"

Kyoya considered it for a minute. "It would depend," he replied honestly. "Is Aoi-chan a friend of yours?"

Daiki's head nodded so vigorously it looked like it would come off. "Whenever her mama packs meatballs in her _bento_ she shares them with me."

Kyoya covered a cough with his hand. "I'll take that as a yes."

What he would normally do, if someone dared to hurt one of the people who'd earned his friendship, was return the pain ten-fold. Afterwards, he'd take the time to explain to them in excruciating detail just how he would destroy them if they dared to do so again.

But some things you just weren't supposed to say to a five-year-old.

"I'd try to find a way to convince them that what they are doing won't get them what they want. Non-violently."

"How do you do that?" Daiki's eyebrows knit together.

"You need to incentivize their behavior away from what they are doing and toward what you want them to do. Everyone has something they care about or something they want. It could be an activity, or recognition, or money, or power. Once you know what it is you figure out how to control whether they get it and make sure they know that. Then you can influence the outcome."

The child sat there, blinking owlishly for a minute. "I don't understand any of that."

Kyoya chuckled. Game theory was probably a bit much for a pre-schooler to grasp without explanation. "What's something that you really want?"

The child sucked on his lips while he thought. He looked at Kyoya with clear, direct eyes and said, "For Mama not to have to work so hard."

"I'm not sure I can manage that, just yet," Kyoya replied gently. He needed to learn not to ask such open-ended questions if he didn't want to hear uncomfortable truths. "Let's stick to this situation. You want Yuuma-kun to stop bullying your friend, correct?"

Daiki nodded eagerly.

"Now if I could promise you that I can make him stop, would you be willing to do something I asked in exchange?"

The boy tilted his head to the side and considered the question carefully. "May-be," he lilted hesitatingly. "I don't know what you want me to do."

Kyoya smiled. "Good answer. What you can get someone to do will depend on how much they want what you have. How about if I asked you to apologize? Would you be willing to give me that if it meant Yuuma-kun didn't hurt Aoi-chan again?"

He could see the internal struggle going on behind the child's eyes. "Do I have to mean it?"

"That is entirely up to you."

"Okay." Daiki gave a sharp nod that bobbed his hair on and off his face. "Can you really do it Ootori-san?"

"I believe so." Some people were difficult, they wanted things you couldn't control like health or love or friendship. Looking around at the carefully selected and meticulously displayed childish accomplishments hung on walls with faded paint and overly ornate panelling he was quite certain he knew the levers to pull in this case.

Kyoya startled when the small body slammed into his and tiny arms wrapped around his waist. For a second, his hand hovered in mid-air before lightly coming to rest on the child's head. Daiki pulled back and looked up, face beaming with a grin that echoed in Kyoya's memories. "Thank you, Ootori-san!"

The child stepped away and caught one of Kyoya's hands in his own. He pulled the adult over towards the chairs lining the wall and beckoned him to sit down. Daiki crawled up onto his knees, perching precariously on the chair, with his face at eye level. "Ootori-san, are you a friend of my mother's?"

"Yes. We've been friends since before you were born."

"Before I was born?" The boy's eyes widened and gleamed with excitement. "Does that mean you knew my Papa?"

Kyoya closed his mouth before the response came out. He didn't know what Haruhi had told her son. Did the boy even know who his father was?

Daiki leapt back off the chair and spun in a circle, arms outstretched. "My Papa is Suoh Tamaki. He was a prince!"

The amusement Kyoya'd been suppressing since their conversation started finally bubbled to the surface and burst on his face in a wistful smile. "I knew him. He was a good friend."

Stopping his spinning, Daiki placed his small hands on Kyoya's knees and leaned forward. "Are you a prince too?" Puppy-dog eyes pleaded for the answer to be 'yes.'

It was the eyes. They reeled him in like a fish on a line and Kyoya couldn't help but play along with the fantasy. "More like your father's seneschal."

"Sene… sene… what's that?"

"The person who makes sure the Prince's court runs smoothly."

"Court?" The word made Daiki bounce up and down, his small body vibrating like it would explode. "Like King Arthur's?"

Kyoya's eyes softened as they stared back in time. "Yes, I suppose so."

Bright eyes studied the adult for a minute. "Are you Merlin?" Daiki asked, awestruck.

A small chuckle escaped at the child's conclusion. "I have been known to pull a few rabbits out of hats."

"Were there knights? And ladies?"

"Many ladies, but your mother was the only princess," Kyoya replied, lost in his memories. "And four brave knights."

"Please, Ootori-san, tell me about the knights."

Kyoya pulled himself out of his reverie. "Hasn't your mother told you anything?"

Daiki gazed back at him with a look too knowing for a child of his age. "She would if I asked. But it makes her sad and then she cries in the closet when she thinks I'm sleeping."

Kyoya's heart wrenched. Once again the fear that he'd waited too long curled in his stomach. Silently, he vowed to do anything in his power to prevent seeing that look on this child's face again.

"One was a giant with a gentle heart who could befriend any animal." Daiki's expression returned once more to one of childish enthusiasm as Kyoya spun out his tale. "Another seemed a small child but had the strength of a hundred men. The last two looked exactly alike and delighted in playing games and tricks."

"Did you fight dragons? And go on adventures?"

Kyoya reached out and ruffled the mop of brown hair. "Your father wouldn't have had it any other way."

The office door opened and Haruhi emerged followed by a pinch-faced woman on the far-side of middle-age. Greying hair was put up in a tightly controlled bun and her skirt, blouse, and heels didn't look very comfortable for someone expected to spend their day chasing after small children. A nasally voice pitched just loud enough to be overheard continued the conversation from inside. "…you can be sure I will be thinking long and hard about whether _that child_ is suitable for this school next year."

"What is your teacher's name?" Kyoya whispered to Daiki.

"Nakamura-sensei. What are you going to do?"

"Just be ready if I call on you." Daiki nodded firmly, wide eyes watching every move.

Kyoya pulled out his card case and carefully selected from among his various business cards for the one which would have the desired impact. Standing, he moved to intercept the two women, causing the older one to halt mid-diatribe. Her narrowed eyes flicked from him to Haruhi and back again. Kyoya didn't need to read minds to know just what conclusion the provincial-minded hag was forming about the relationship between a single mother and a rich businessman.

"Nakamura-sensei, please forgive the interruption but Fujioka-san has told me so much about you I simply had to introduce myself." Bowing with the exact amount of formality he would use towards one of his father's business partners he handed her his card. "I am Ootori Kyoya. _Yoroshiku onegashimasu._ "

The woman's eyes widened when she read the card in her hand. "Our… Ouran School Board of Director's?" She forgot to return his bow and introduction in her shock.

Kyoya straightened and put his hand on his chest in the appearance of being flattered. "Oh, have you heard of our little school?" It was a bit like asking someone if they had heard of Toudai. Or Harvard. "It is very satisfying to know our reputation is growing among educators of your caliber. I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my _kohai_ and her son."

"Your… Fujioka-san is your _kohai_?" The question came out strangled.

"She never said? Well, that is our Fujioka-san. So modest." And so completely furious at him. He knew exactly what the pressed lips and slight tilt of her jaw meant. He would deal with it later. For now, he turned back to the jumped-up little head teacher. "She and I attended Ouran together. We were all disappointed that she decided to continue her education at Hokkaido instead of our Academy. She was quite a favorite among her classmates."

The woman blinked rapidly as so many of her assumptions were exploded by a single statement.

"I am grateful I had the opportunity to meet you and view your school," Kyoya continued. "People often underestimate the importance of a quality pre-school education in laying the grounds for a child's academic future."

Nakamura pulled herself up straight and preened like a peacock. "I absolutely agree Ootori-san," she trilled in what, in a younger woman, would be considered a flirtatious manner. "The skills they learn now will aid them for the rest of their life. So many people either choose _inferior_ pre-schools due to cost or simply neglect it entirely."

"Fujioka-san and I just finished discussing the possibility of Daiki-kun attending Ouran should they move back to Tokyo. Given the quality of his education thus far, I will have no hesitation in recommending him for a spot."

Nakamura glowed under the accolade. It was time to move in for the kill. He shrugged as if the next point was a foregone conclusion. "Of course, if they stay in Hokkaido then I'm sure you can recommend him to S Academy here?" He casually name dropped the most prestigious school in Sapporo.

The woman's hand toyed with the pearls around her neck and a faint blush appeared on her weathered cheeks. "Ano… we aren't on their recommended preschool list. Not yet," she hastened to reassure him, "We've sent in the paperwork but haven't heard back."

Kyoya arranged his features into one of mild disappointment. "Oh. I suppose that can't be helped. I will mention the issue to Sugihara-san from their board of directors next time I see him. I would hate for Daiki-kun to miss out on that opportunity due to a bureaucratic problem." He waved his hand dismissively and saw hope mixed with avarice gleaming in the woman's eyes. The pre-schools on the list could charge a fortune.

"Speaking of which, I believe Daiki-kun has something he would like to say to you." Kyoya beckoned the child to come stand beside him, hoping the boy was smart enough to catch the ball he'd been thrown.

Tamaki's son didn't fail him and he bowed inelegantly, but low enough to portray sincerity. "Nakamura-sensei I'm very sorry for causing you trouble. I won't do it again."

Kyoya laid his hand proprietarily on the top of Daiki's head. "Children of this age have such a difficult time understanding the right way to respond to bullying. That is why they need teachers like you to show them that they can trust adults to handle the situation and prevent it from happening again." He put just the slightest emphasis on the last few words to get his message across.

The school mistress donned a benevolent smile as she looked at the child she had been considering expelling. "I'm sure Daiki-kun understands now that the correct course of action would be to tell me instead of confronting his classmate directly. I'll be meeting with the other child's parents to discuss our zero-tolerance policy for that type of behavior." The last sentence was said looking straight at her new benefactor, letting him know she understood his terms.

Kyoya smiled and took his leave. "It was a pleasure meeting you Nakamura-sensei. Please feel free to use my card if I can be of any assistance." He'd could always have his secretary fail to route the calls.

Outside on the payment, Haruhi fumed hot enough to melt the snow. "I could have handled the matter myself."

"Of course you could. You would have groveled and apologized while she delighted in having power over you. Eventually she would pretend to cave when she realized that she needed your tuition money. My way was simply more efficient." Kyoya looked down at the child by his side. "Besides, I didn't do it for you."

Daiki was looking back at him like he'd hung the moon, the stars, and the sun as well.

Haruhi glanced back and forth between the two, clearly wondering what had happened in the hallway. She shrugged, dismissing it as too much trouble to deal with now. "Are you really going to talk to Sugihara-san about the school?"

Kyoya pushed his glasses up. "I never lie about things like this. I'll talk to him the next time I see him."

"And when will that be?" Haruhi asked wryly.

"Since he is ninety years old and never leaves his house? Approximately never."

The small cough which escaped Haruhi's lips might be considered a chuckle. She rolled her eyes, shook her head ruefully and he knew he'd been forgiven. The chuckle turned to a sigh when she glanced at her watch. "I'm going to be late for my first student. I should call and cancel."

"Take my car. You'll get there in time."

"Thanks, but I can't leave Dai-chan. Nakamura-sensei is sending him home for the day to reflect on his behavior. My neighbor's daughter usually picks him up on her way home and watches him, but she won't be out of school for a couple hours."

"I can take him home and watch him until your neighbor arrives." He wasn't sure if his offer surprised Haruhi or himself more. The small amount of time he'd spent with the child had been too short.

"How? I'll have your car? It's too cold to hang around and wait for it to come back."

"I know the way home by train, Mama!" Daiki pulled on his mother's hands excitedly. "Erica-chan taught me how."

"There. It's all taken care of," Kyoya contributed.

Haruhi laughed derisively. "You? On public transport?"

"I am a grown man." He shot her a withering glance that she shrugged off. "I assure you I can navigate the subway system without risking catastrophe."

Haruhi bent down so she was face-to-face with her son. "Dai-chan do you have your key?" He reached into his backpack and pulled it out to show her. "Good boy. You need to take good care of Ootori-san. He doesn't use the subway so you'll need to teach him what to do and make sure he doesn't get lost." The smug look in her eye told Kyoya that this was payback for his little scheme earlier.

"I can do it, Mama." Daiki said confidently.

Haruhi rose. "I'll let Erica-chan know of the change in plans and send your car to our house after it drops me off." She turned once again to the child and said firmly, "No TV or going to the park. We're going to have a talk when I get home about what happened today."

Daiki bit his lips and lowered his gaze. "Yes, Mama."

Kyoya motioned for his driver to exit the vehicle and open the passenger door. "Go on, Haruhi. Daiki-kun and I will be fine." With mumbled thanks and a few skeptical looks back over her shoulder Haruhi headed out.

Daiki slipped his small hand into Kyoya's. "Don't worry, Ootori-ji, I'll make sure we get home okay."

A lump lodged in Kyoya's throat. When had he become Uncle Ootori? And why didn't he seem to mind? He squeezed the small hand resting in his palm. "I put myself in your care."

The child bolted down the street, tugging the adult behind him. "Come on, the subway is this way. I'll help you with everything!" He turned to look back at Kyoya over his shoulder. "Ootori-ji, would you tell me about one of the adventures you, Papa, and the knights had?"

Riffling through his memories, he found one that would suit. "Well, one time your Papa raced a group of opposing knights in order to win a crown…"

Uncle Ootori let himself be swept away down the sidewalk and back in time.


	7. Thaw

Maria stood on Haruhi's doorstep, holding up plastic containers filled with food like an offering to the gods of gossip. Haruhi repressed a chuckle; she'd anticipated this ever since watching Daiki skip off towards the subway station with a bemused Ootori in tow over five hours ago. She stepped aside and gestured her friend to come in. "I thought you were Erica-chan coming over for exam prep," she said wryly.

Maria stamped the snow off her boots before entering. "She'll be by in about fifteen minutes. I thought you'd like a chance to eat first." The plump, little matron handed the containers to Haruhi as she bustled inside.

"That was thoughtful of you." Haruhi kept the sarcasm out of her voice and motioned for Maria to take a seat at the _kotatsu._ She moved to the kitchen counter and opened one of the lids, taking a deep breath to relish the garlic and vinegar smell of Maria's _adobo_. Scooping rice from the cooker into two bowls, she arranged the marinated pork on top and added them, along with plates of her friend's _lumpia_ and the _kinpira gobo_ she'd made for tomorrow's _bentos_ , to a tray and set it on the table. "Would you like some tea, Maria-chan?"

"That would be nice, thank you." Maria's fingers drummed an irregular rhythm on the table. Haruhi, her back to the older woman, smiled as she poured boiling water from the kettle on the stove into the teapot. If she ever had someone like Maria on the witness stand it would be too easy. All you had to do was let her fill the silence.

"Soooo.." Maria drawled on cue, "Erica told me a _man_ brought Dai-chan home today?"

Haruhi swallowed her snort and put the kettle back on the stove to simmer. "Yes, one did."

"She said he was very polite. Very handsome too."

"I suppose." Haruhi brought cups and the steeping tea over to the table and sat down. " _Itadakimasu_." She nabbed one of the _lumpia_ with her chopsticks and devoured it, closing her eyes to savor the custom blend of pork, chicken, and shrimp Maria used. "I know I say this every time, but you should really open your own restaurant."

"Being a chef has lousy hours. I like to be home with my family for dinner every night. Maybe I'll think about it once Marcel and Isabella are both out of elementary school." Taking a sip of tea, Maria stared inquiringly at Haruhi over the rim of the cup. "Dai-chan hasn't stopped talking about his 'Uncle Ootori' since I got home."

"Really?" Haruhi covered up her twitching lips by taking a bite of the _adobo_ , letting it melt in her mouth. Maria was a decent cook when making Japanese food, but when working in her native medium she was a culinary goddess. Not for the first time, Haruhi reflected that trading tutoring for babysitting and occasional meals was the best decision she'd ever made.

Maria's breath huffed out in a frustrated sigh. "Come on, Haruhi-chan! Who is he? Where did you meet him? Are you two dating?"

Haruhi raised the hand holding her chopsticks up to her mouth, covering her laughter with her wrist. "Sorry for teasing you, Maria-chan." Her shoulders kept shaking as she tried to get her amusement under control. "He's a sempai from my high school who's in town for a few days."

"Someone you knew from before you moved here?" Maria's face couldn't conceal her surprise. In the five-and-a-half years they'd been neighbors Haruhi had never once mentioned her former life. Her eyes wandered to the Fujioka family altar. "And he and Dai-chan…" she trailed off suggestively.

Haruhi's eyes widened at the implication. "No!" she practically shouted. "Dai-chan's father really did die before I moved up here," she continued in a calmer tone. "Kyoya-sempai was his best friend."

"A best friend who came all the way to Sapporo just to check on you and Dai-chan?" The plump little woman's eyes gleamed speculatively.

"Maria-chan! He's a friend! My life is not one of your dramas." Knowing the soap opera loving Filipina would be leaping to conclusions, she hurried to clarify. "Kyoya-sempai just…." She tried to think of how to explain it to someone who didn't know him. "He doesn't let a lot of people get close to him. Those he does, he looks out for. Dai-chan and I are an obligation to him."

Maria barely seemed to hear. She clasped her hands together and sighed. "It's like a novel - a man's best friend, secretly harboring an unrequited love, finally has a chance at the girl of his dreams…."

Haruhi burst out in laughter, nearly bending over double. "Sorry. Sorry." She apologized, wiping away tears from her eyes. "I'm nobody's unrequited love, least of all Kyoya-sempai's." He'd always been clear that he would only marry a woman who brought merit to the Ootori family. An unmarried commoner with an illegitimate child clearly didn't qualify.

Haruhi's brow wrinkled slightly. Why was she was even thinking along those lines?

"Still, he was very charming," Maria continued, picking at her _adobo_. "Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to dismiss the idea."

Haruhi's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I thought you said only Erica-chan met him?"

"He _may_ have stuck around until I came home," Maria admitted. "Very nice, this friend of yours, he helped Erica and Thomas with their English homework."

"You're incorrigible." Haruhi rolled her eyes. She shrugged and used the excuse that had kept would-be suitors away since she'd started college. "Anyway, I already have a man in my life."

Maria carefully put her chopsticks down and fixed Haruhi with an intent gaze. "Children are wonderful, but eventually they grow up and go on to have lives of their own. They're no substitute for having someone to share your life with."

Haruhi squirmed slightly under the older woman's knowing look. "That's not entirely what I meant." Her eyes darted over to Tamaki's picture on the altar.

"Haruhi-chan," Mari sighed, "I've never said anything because I could tell it was taking everything you had just to get by but…" Maria closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she re-opened them her look was gentle, yet unrelenting. "That young man of yours, Dai-chan's father, what was he like?"

The younger woman's breath hitched as the familiar weight she felt whenever she thought of the past started pulling at her, threatening to drown her in memories. Maria had never asked, always respecting the walls Haruhi had placed around the subject. But now that her past had caught up with her, this was the one person who she wanted to know the truth.

"He was…" She looked down at the table, unseeing, trying to gather the words. "He was indescribable. Narcissistic, entitled, petulant. More energy than an untrained puppy. He seemed to live entirely within a reality that only existed in his own mind." A soft smile graced her lips and moisture gathered at the corner of her eyes. "But he had the most generous heart of anyone I've ever known. When he looked at people, he really saw who they were and he would do _anything_ to help someone in pain." She rolled her eyes remembering some of his schemes and laughed ruefully. "Usually in a bizarre and over-the-top way." Haruhi brought her eyes up to meet Maria's gaze. "And when he loved he did it without reservation or conditions."

Maria's face was lined with sympathy. "He sounds incredible."

"He…" The moisture threatened to turn into tears and Haruhi blinked her eyes rapidly. "He was."

Maria bit her upper lip, carefully considering her words. "If he really was like you described, then what do you think he'd say?" Maria asked quietly, "This man who didn't like seeing anyone in pain? Would he approve of you building your life as an empty tomb dedicated to his memory?"

Haruhi flinched as if hit and she clutched at her heart with one hand. She knew what he'd say, the man who'd once taken a group of lonely children and formed them into a family. It wasn't the first time she'd asked herself that question. Every time she'd stopped before admitting the answer, before the weight enveloped her in darkness. "I… I..." She stammered, the pressure wrapping around her heart like a vise, crushing the breath out of her lungs.

The loud rapping on the door broke the spell and she gratefully gulped in air. "That must be Erica-chan." Haruhi leaped to her feet and flung the door open. An instant later she recoiled in shock at the man standing there. "Tsumura-sensei? What are you doing here?"

The assistant professor barged inside, crowding Haruhi so close she was forced to back up. She stumbled when her back heel caught the entry-area step and she scrambled to catch her footing. Tsumura slammed his foot against the door behind him, shutting it with a bang. "You really ha'me… had me fooled, didn' you Fujioka?" His face twisted in rage but something darker glittered in his eyes.

She'd always considered him an annoyance, like a buzzing fly. Standing there dripping snow on her floor in the small room he seemed larger. More dangerous. For the first time in a long while Haruhi felt frightened. Step-by-step he moved forward, forcing her back past the _kotatsu_. She kept her hands lowered and circled her wrist frantically, silently telling Maria to run if she got the chance.

Slightly swaying, Tsumura followed her up into the living area. The smell of cheap sake reeked off of him. "Prancing around campus like you're so pure. Too good to let anyone between those pretty li'l legs of yours."

"Tsumura-sensei, you really shouldn't be here." She kept her tone reasonable, not wanting to provoke him until Maria got out to safety. "Why don't we talk tomorrow at school?" Haruhi let him back her all the way up to the kitchen counter, freeing a path to the door for her neighbor, but Maria just sat there frozen like a rabbit too terrified to move.

"Buh… but then I come here and find out you gotta kid with no father in sight." His face softened and he reached out to caress the hair along the side of her face. "I thought tha's okay. Even good girls make mistakes. I could forgive you."

Haruhi reached behind her, hoping her movements would go undetected.

In the blink of an eye his face distorted with anger and he twisted her hair in his fist. Haruhi stifled a yelp of pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt her. "But then today I see you get into a f'ncy car with some rich bizn'sss… businessman and I real… I re'lize you've been playing me. Playin' me. The. Whole. Time." He brought his other hand up to her waist and drew her in close, voice rasping in her ear. "Why him and na'… na' me? How much does he pay you, Haru?"

His oily lips started nibbling their way from her ear along her chin. She closed her eyes involuntarily, trying to keep down the nausea turning her stomach, but couldn't prevent the shiver of revulsion at the touch of his hand running down from her waist to her thigh. Carefully she tried to stretch behind her without catching his attention.

A sharp, shattering noise interrupted her blind search. Tsumura flinched, staggerd backward and clutched the back of his head. When he pulled his hand back he stared at the blood dripping off it uncomprehendingly. Behind him, Haruhi could see Maria staring in disbelief at the broken shard in her hand from the plate she'd cracked over his head.

The assistant professor turned, almost falling as his legs tangled together. "You li'l…" Whatever else he had to say was cut off when Haruhi slammed the kettle from the stove down on his head, spraying him with boiling water. Tsumura screamed and collapsed in a sprawl on the floor.

A second later, the door slammed open and Sato burst inside. "Get your hands off…" The giant stopped and looked down at the body. "…her."

Sato's roommate poked his head around the door. "Looks like we aren't needed, big-guy." He gave the two women a broad grin. "I guess the ladies can take care of themselves."

"Did… did we kill him?" Maria asked tentatively, poking the prostrate teacher in the side with her toe.

Sato crouched down and lifted Tsumura's head by his hair. "Nah. He'll live," he said after a minute. "Just gonna have a headache." He released his grip and the teacher's head fell forward, hitting the floor with a thud.

"I… I suppose we should call the police?" Maria wrung her hands together nervously.

Tanaka came into the room and shut the broken door behind him as best he could. "It would be better not to involve the authorities. He might try to press charges and make trouble for you."

Haruhi wanted to deny it, but Tsumura was in the pre-law department and had connections with both the DA's office and the police. If anyone would know how to work the system it was him. Fear curled in her belly. If they wanted, this could become something the Suohs could use against her. Something they could use to declare her an unfit mother.

"Press charges?" Maria's eyes widened in fear, her breath came out in quick pants just short of hyperventilation. "I have kids – I can't go to jail! I'm not a citizen! What if they deported me? My kids would have to live with their no-good-father!"

"Don't worry 'bout it Ocampo-san." Sato patted her shoulder reassuringly and pulled out a cell phone. "I won't let anythin' bad happen to you or Fujioka-san. We'll call the boss and have our guys take care of it." Tanaka made frantic 'shushing' motions with his hands. Sato blushed and ran his hand through his hair, mumbling "Guess I wasn't 'sposed to say nothin' bout that."

"Boss?" Haruhi asked sharply as a number of things began to click into place. "Do you two happen to work for a man named Ootori?"

"Who's that?" Sato asked. His guileless face looked genuinely bewildered.

Haruhi's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. "You know – dark hair, glasses, absurdly expensive suits and a need to control everything?"

"Sounds like a prick to me. Never met him." Tanaka replied. Haruhi didn't miss that it wasn't a denial. The weasely little man was clearly smarter than his friend.

"Ootori. Ootori," the larger of the two muttered under his breath. His face brightened in recognition. "Hey Tanaka, isn't he the guy the boss said to call from now on if there was trouble?" He froze, eyes frantically darting around the room. "Oh. I think I wasn't 'sposed to say that either."

"Geez, Sato." The smaller man clutched his forehead with his hand and shook his head despairingly. "What have I told you about keeping your big mouth shut?"

The childlike giant hung his head, eyes as wide and sorrowful as a basset hound. "Tha' I should let you do the thinkin' for both of us."

Haruhi looked back and forth between the two men who'd lived in the apartment complex since before she'd moved here. The two who were always there to greet her whenever she came home. Who always asked if she was being bothered by anyone and kept an eye out for unwanted visitors. "I don't suppose you two are familiar with a Kasanoda Ritsu?"

Both men flushed and looked away from her probing gaze.

"Out. With. It." She ordered through clenched teeth.

Tanaka gave every indication of a man who knew when it was time to cut a plea deal. "Our local clan's pledged loyalty to the Kasanoda Syndicate. We were put here to make sure nobody troubled you and Daiki-kun."

"Clan? Syndicate? Are you…" Maria looked at them with wide-eyed fascination and lowered her voice. "Are you _yakuza_?"

"Sorry for not tellin' ya' Ocampo-san, we don't mean to scare ya'." Sato hung his head like a scolded puppy. "I'll… I'll understand if you don't want me round the kids no more."

Haruhi thought Maria looked more excited than afraid to find a real-life bit of drama right under her nose. "Nonsense," the older woman declared, "What you do for a living doesn't change the type of person you are. You've always looked out for us."

Sato turned bright red at her words. On the floor, Tsumura groaned and started to push himself upright. Sato stomped on his back with a foot, slamming him back to the ground. "You've always been nice to me, Ocampo-san." He gazed at her shyly with just a touch of reverence. "I… I like looking out for you and the kids."

Tanaka sighed as his friend blushed and kept trying to look at her without actually meeting her eyes. "I think it's best if the ladies go to Ocampo-san's apartment while we take care of this," he stated, taking control of the conversation. "I'll go with you. Sato, you call the boss and keep an eye on the scumbag."

He opened the door for the two women and the bottom hinge promptly fell off with a sharp plunk. The rest of the door sagged, hanging precariously by the remaining two hinges. "Ano…" Tanaka looked at Haruhi sheepishly. "We'll get someone in to fix the door too."

* * *

Haruhi looked out Maria's window at the vehicles pulled up half-a-block away. Five minutes ago, some men had climbed the stairs to her floor, entered her apartment, and left dragging a limp Tsumura between them. They'd propped him against the hood of one of the parked cars clustered under the streetlight. Now about five of them stood in a loose group, smoking cigarettes and watching a tall figure wearing a black wool coat and carrying an umbrella talk to her would-be assailant.

"Mama, look!" Daiki stood on tip toes with his little hands clasping the windowsill. "It's Ootori-ji. What's he doing?"

' _Probably ruining a man's life.'_ The odds were good that when she went to school tomorrow, her assistant professor would no longer be there.

Out loud she said, "Making sure that person doesn't bother us again." Daiki leaned forward, pressing his nose against the glass. She reached down and ruffled his hair. "That's enough. Go and watch TV with the other children."

"Okay." She watched as Daiki skipped away and disappeared into the room Maria's sons shared. The sounds of a Studio Ghibli film filled the apartment until he shut the door behind him. Haruhi turned back to the scene playing out in the street where Tsumura was shaking his head vehemently at something Kyoya had said.

She should be angry. Ritsu had lied to her by omission, never mentioning he was working with Kyoya or that he'd placed people to watch her. She should be furious. Instead, she felt an unfamiliar warmth and sense of comfort. Afterall, wasn't that what family did? Let you fly on your own while running beneath you with a safety net?

She shook her head ruefully and smiled at the changes time had wrought in her. Five years ago she would have stormed out into the snow to intervene, yelling that she could take care of herself.

But that girl died long ago on a warm August evening.

It was only Maria's thirst for real life romance that had her in the apartment instead of Erica. Only Tsumura's timing that meant Daiki hadn't been there to see his mother assaulted. She dropped her hand and the curtain fell back into place, shielding the two men from view.

She didn't particularly care what Kyoya did to the bastard. He deserved the Shadow King's worst.

* * *

"Twenty-four hours."

"Huh?" The professor leaned against the hood of a car rubbing the back of his head. When Kyoya spoke, the man's eyes moved around without focus. He might have a concussion.

Good.

"Twenty-four hours." Kyoya repeated matter-of-factly. "That is precisely how long you have to leave the country and bury yourself so far into anonymity that I will never see your face or hear your name spoken ever again."

The words seemed to slowly penetrate through the fog surrounding Tsumura's senses. When they finally registered he leapt to his feet, fists clenched. "What the hell is this?" His attempt at intimidation was undermined when he clutched at his head in pain and slumped back against the car.

Kyoya pushed his glasses up with a finger. "Consider this an object lesson in the proverb 'appearances can be deceiving.' Unlike the other impoverished women you've preyed on in the past, this one has connections you failed to take into account."

Tsumura shook his head vehemently and promptly looked nauseous at the motion. "What... What other women?" The man was a horrible liar. The fear that his secret had been uncovered radiated off him and coated his body in a thin sheen of sweat.

"It took remarkably little effort, even at this time of night, to uncover your history of stalking vulnerable undergraduates then using your influence at the university to intimidate them before they lodged a complaint. I could go into details, but you only have twenty-three hours and…" Kyoya made a show of looking at his watch. "…fifty-four minutes left."

"And just what's supposed to happen then," Tsumura muttered, staring up at Kyoya like a defiant middle-schooler.

"I'm not entirely sure," Kyoya admitted. He regarded the man before him with the same interest a scientist might have in the bug he planned to dissect. "Have you heard of the Kasanoda Syndicate?"

Tsumura's face paled to a shade lighter than the falling snow. "The.. the biggest _yakuza_ group in Japan?" he squeaked.

"Yes, they _have_ grown quite a bit in recent years," Kyoya replied disinterestedly. "Fujioka-san and Kasanoda-sama's wife are good friends. Once the deadline has passed he will 'cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.' Or at least the dogs of grievous bodily harm. Every member of the syndicate will be on the lookout for you. What they'll do if they find you…" Kyoya shrugged to indicate that he neither knew nor cared what Tsumura's fate would be then.

Kyoya could say that he didn't enjoy watching as the full realization of his predicament slowly dawned in Tsumura's eyes.

But that would be lying.

And as Daiki would say - lying was _wrong_.

"You can't do this!" Tsumura staggered back to his feet, eyes pleading desperately. "I'm a respected member of the community here! This is where my family comes from, where I work!"

Kyoya smiled so widely it narrowed his eyes down to slits. "Not. Any. More. Feel free to contact the Chairman of the University if you wish, but you'll only be wasting time you don't have."

Fear turned to anger in an instant. "I can't believe you are doing all this for some little slut," Tsumura hissed. "Is she really that good a lay?"

Other men would have lashed out and hit the man for his presumption. Kyoya just smiled wider and more predatorily. "Your deadline is now twelve hours." He made a 'come here' gesture and two of the men standing around on the sidewalk detached themselves and took positions on either side of Tsumura. "These gentlemen will see you home to pack." Kyoya tilted his head back, angling his face so light glinted off his glasses and hid his eyes. "Please do me the favor of ignoring the advice I've given you. It would be quite interesting to find out just how… inventive syndicate members hoping to please their boss could be."

As the men from the local clan dragged a sputtering ex-associate professor off down the street Kyoya gazed up at where a ridiculously over-paid carpenter was fixing a door and then over to the window glowing softly beside it. He wanted to go to her, make sure she was alright with his own two eyes. But she wouldn't appreciate it. Not when she'd just discovered the extent of his and Kasanoda's interference in her life. Stubborn girl.

With a weary sigh, he turned away and began planning his next assault on her defenses.

* * *

"Good night, Dai-chan." Haruhi tucked the edges of the _kotatsu_ blanket around a sleepy four-nearly-five-year-old. It had taken the carpenter a couple hours to reset the door after Sato had practically ripped the hinges out of their sockets. The excitement had prevented Daiki from being able to fall asleep at Maria's.

She leaned down and gave him a quick hug. His arms clung tightly to her neck when she tried to pull back. "Mama, I'm sorry I hit Yuuma-kun."

Haruhi had almost forgotten about the earlier incident due to the events of the evening. She gave him a reassuring cuddle and sat back, brushing his bangs out of his face. "I'm glad you understand it was wrong. We'll apologize properly to Yuuma-kun and his parents tomorrow."

Daiki nodded and turned over on his side, tucking his hands under his cheek. "Ootori-ji says violence seld… seldom accom… accom…"

"Accomplishes?"

"Yeah. Violence seldom accomplishes your goals." He screwed up his face while trying to recall the words. "He says it's the least effective form of nego… negotiation."

Haruhi blinked owlishly. What _had_ Kyoya been teaching her child?

Daiki yawned, his eyes fluttering closed. "Mama, am I going to meet the other knights?"

"What knights?" Haruhi furrowed her brow in confusion, wondering if this was a new game her imaginative son was playing.

"Papa's knights. The giant… and the child… and the two who play tricks… I hope their as nice as Ootori-ji…" His voice trailed off and turned into slow, regular breathing as he drifted off to sleep.

Haruhi rocked back on her heels as, for the second time that evening, the walls she'd carefully constructed around her world began to crumble under the weight of the past.

Daiki had never known any other life than the one they had here. It had always been just the two of them and she had never thought he'd feel the loss for something he hadn't known. For the first time it occurred to her that their isolated existence deprived him as much as her.

And there was no reason for it anymore. Why couldn't she have her family back?

She drew in a shaky breath and mentally prodded for the heaviness which would normally settle in her breast by now. It was still there but, somehow, it felt just a little lighter. It still constricted, but didn't threaten to drag her under. Maybe it was the realization that, as lost as she'd often felt since moving to Hokkaido, she'd never really been alone.

Before she could second guess herself she pulled her phone and a small, white business card from her purse and dialed the number on it. "Kyoya-sempai," she said the minute it was picked up, "You…" She stopped and took a deep, steadying breath. "You can tell them where I am. I'd like to see them again - that is, if they want to come…"


	8. Reunion

Kyoya hunched his shoulders against the biting wind and moved closer to the dark wood walls of the covered entry way. Practically forced to huddle against them by the chill, he checked his email - discarding most of it as unimportant chatter. He shivered as the wind found him once again and looked up from his smartphone at the young woman pacing back and forth restlessly in front of him who he blamed for his current predicament.

Since their arrival, Haruhi's relentless back-and-forth journeys had slowly taken her from the private dining room he'd reserved, to the Ryokan lobby, and finally to the entry area that overlooked the circular driveway abutting generous front gardens. If the host club members took any longer to get here from the airport she'd end up standing in the path of their car. As she paced, her hands alternated between dangling limply at her side and clenching into fists around the fabric of her skirt, turning the ruffled cotton into a wrinkled mess. Well, _more_ of a wrinkled mess.

"I don't suppose we could head back inside where it's warm?" Kyoya asked, discomfort coloring his tone. "I did reserve us a room with a fireplace, if you remember," he muttered under his breath.

"If you want to go sit by the fire, I'm not stopping you," she replied sharply, making another sharp turn. On this pass, her steps took her two steps out from under the eaves of their dubious protection.

He sighed and slipped his phone inside his coat jacket. "Haruhi, I'm really not sure what you are so worried about." He stood in front of her on her next turn, forcing her to come to a stop. A smile tugged up the corner of his mouth. "I've seen you face down Okinawan townies, inept kidnappers, and even the old dragon Suoh Shizue-san herself." Haruhi's shoulders relaxed microscopically and he continued. "These are your friends. What is so frightening about that?"

Haruhi let out her breath in a chuckle. "I suppose you're right," she said, calming down but still not moving a centimeter towards the hotel door. Her eyes scanned the horizon, straining to spot the black limo they'd be sure to arrive in. "I still can't believe they were so quick to come here. I didn't agree until Wednesday night and it's only Friday." She narrowed her eyes and gazed up suspiciously at her companion. "I don't suppose you anticipated this?"

"As much as I'd like to take credit for this being part of some master plan, no. I said nothing about your whereabouts until Wednesday night." Kyoya responded dryly. Bemusement softened his eyes, giving him an almost approachable aura. "They've missed you, Haruhi. If the twins hadn't needed to arrange a flight from New York they all would have been here yesterday."

Haruhi shook her head doubtfully. No matter what Kyoya said, she couldn't believe it would be that easy. Couldn't have faith that the bonds of friendship she had severed could be picked back up so seamlessly. The men driving in from New Chitose airport had to be strangers. In the five years since she'd been gone, they would have grown and changed in ways she couldn't imagine.

The panic which had her heart thumping and her feet itching to flee rose up once again. She side-stepped around Kyoya to resume her pacing, but stilled almost immediately. Her breathing grew shallow as she watched a black spot on the horizon grow larger and resolve into an elongated car that turned in at the hotel gate. Unconsciously, she gripped Kyoya's arm with both hands as the car stopped, disgorging four young men who were at once familiar and foreign.

The twins jumped out first, their red heads turning this-way-and-that in unison until they spotted her. Matching grins spread across their faces and in an instant they were heading for her. Haruhi's heart lurched when she realized that, even after all this time, she could tell it was Hikaru leading their dash in her direction.

Next, Mori emerged followed by a Usa-chan-less Honey. The smaller man yawned and rubbed his eyes as if he'd been taking a nap. He looked around sleepily and tugged on his older cousin's arm, gesturing towards the twins who were half-way towards the entry area. The two quickly followed their _kohai_ with an impressive speed that was still not quite enough to overtake the brothers. She heard Honey call out 'Takashi, hup!' and, without stopping his stride, Mori laced his fingers together behind his back. The Haninozuka heir accelerated, jumped up to place one foot in his cousin's cupped hands, and used the boost provided to flip up and over Mori's shoulder and execute a perfect triple-somersault that landed him directly in front of Haruhi and ahead of the startled twins.

"Haru-chan!" Honey wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her up, and spun her around in a circle three times. He lowered her back to the ground and buried his head against her shoulder. "I missed you so much!"

He drew back while keeping his arms securely around her waist and Haruhi could see moisture forming in his big brown eyes. "Honey-sempai?" She reached out her fingers to touch his cheek in a mix of wonder and disbelief. "You've grown. You're as tall as me now!" His added height gave him a sharper, more angular look that aged him. No longer a loli-shota, he looked like a middle school student on the border of graduating.

The twins arrived quickly after that, both of them slightly out of breath. Time had matured them as well, at least outwardly, their frames a couple inches taller and more solid. Hikaru had returned to his original hair color, but his style was mid-length and spiky all over while Kaoru had short sides and longer locks on top that swept towards his forehead in tousled waves. Haruhi braced herself, prepared for questions or recriminations, but the two just wordlessly parted and drew up on either side of her, entwining their arms around her and caging her tightly. Simultaneously, they nuzzled their faces against the sides of her neck and breathed in deeply as if inhaling her. The wetness from their cheeks felt like ice against her neck and she could hear soft snuffling sounds coming from both sides.

Mori reached her last. Of all of them, he was the only one to look exactly the same as her memories. He reached his long arm over his cousin's head and ruffled her hair with a gentle smile on his lips. "Haruhi," he said while patting her head like a child, "it's good to see you."

Without warning, all the places in her heart that had been empty for so long filled to overflowing and her knees buckled under the onslaught of emotion. The three men whose arms were wrapped around her caught her as she started to collapse, easing her down to the ground. Refusing to release their grips, they sank down beside her and formed a huddle on the cold stone floor "I missed… missed all of… all of you, too," Haruhi choked out on a sob, "So… so much." The tears she'd been staving off from the minute she saw them overflowed and coursed down her cheeks. Soon the entire mass of bodies on the floor was weeping loudly.

Kyoya and Mori stood like sentinels on either side of the crying, jumbled mess on the floor. Briefly, their eyes met above the sniveling crowd and then, by mutual unspoken agreement, each turned their head to the side so they could blink their eyes rapidly to dislodge the specks of dust that had lodged in them.

* * *

Somehow, Kyoya managed to move the mob from the floor of the entry way to the fireside room before they could make much more of a scene. Still giving an occasional sniffle, Haruhi sat on one of the sofas, gripping a mug of green tea tightly with both hands to keep them from shaking. Hikaru and Kaoru claimed the spots to either side of her, their arms firmly linked around her waist and their heads resting on her shoulders. Honey had draped himself over the back of the sofa. Every so often he would impulsively wrap his arms around her neck and give a brief, strangling hug.

Mori elected to sit in an armchair next to the sofa that left him just within reach of being able to disentangle Haruhi from the former Host Club members should she call for him. The matching armchair on the opposite side contained Kyoya, although he had pushed it far enough away that it almost appeared as if he were here by himself.

Haruhi waited for the Ryokan staff to finish serving sake to the rest of the group and laying out appetizers for them to enjoy. If the staff found their unusual seating arrangement for dinner strange, they were too well trained to say a word. She couldn't help but wonder if this were one of the Suoh hotels. For once, though, food held little interest for her. Although the skewered prawns looked really tasty. And the _tamago_ with ginger. And the rice cake…

Haruhi's mouth watered but she didn't give in. There were things which had to be discussed first. "Ano… guys?" She said hesitantly as soon as the staff had left. "There are things I need to tell you. About the reason I left."

"Haruhi, you don't need to say anything…" said Hikaru from her left.

"…Yeah, we're just glad to have you back," agreed his brother on her right.

"Haru-chan, it's okay if you don't want to tell us." Honey's head dislodged Kaoru's as he leaned around her shoulder and peered sympathetically into her eyes. "But if you do, we'll listen."

"I need to… no, I want to tell you. It's something you all deserve to know." Haruhi took a deep breath and decided to just rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with. "I have a son. His name is Daiki and he'll be five-years-old this coming Valentine's Day."

Stunned silence reverberated through the room. The twins pulled away from her, faces mirrored expressions of shock.

"Haru-chan, you're a mommy!" Honey gave her another one of his strangling embraces. "Isn't that wonderful, Takashi!"

"Hn."

Haruhi thought she could feel herself turning blue.

"Mitskuni," Mori admonished, "You need to let go of her now."

Honey released his grip in a flash. "I'm sorry, Haru-chan. Did I hurt you?" His eyes filled with teary remorse.

"I'm okay Honey-sempai," she replied while trying to rub unobtrusively at her neck so as not to hurt her sensitive _sempai's_ feelings.

"You've got a kid!" Hikaru yelped when he seemed to recover. "How did that happen?"

"Ano... in the usual way?" Haruhi replied, silently adding the word 'moron' to the end of the sentence.

The elder twin flushed deep pink. "Gah! That's not what I meant…" He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

"Five years in February… "Kaoru pulled his arm away from her and started counting months backward on his fingers. "…that means…"

"It's Tamaki's." Mori pronounced. "Daiki is Tamaki's son."

"Y…yes." Haruhi lowered her head and gazed at the ground.

"You and Tamaki have a kid!" Hikaru seemed to still be stuck on the first point. "How the hell did that happen?"

"Do I need to draw you a diagram?" Haruhi asked, mentally willing him to move past the loop his thoughts were stuck in.

"No… I mean…" Hikaru's face turned the color of his hair. "I guess I always thought _tono_ would have some dumb romantic idea about waiting until after you'd been married for ten years or something."

"Well, you know… obviously not," she snapped, feeling her cheeks grow warm. Tamaki definitely had a lot of dumb romantic ideas, but that hadn't been one of them.

Hikaru's expression shifted from stunned to hurt. "Why didn't you say anything? We're your best friends, why didn't you tell us?"

"Hika…" Kaoru said warningly.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Haruhi said softly, meeting the eyes of all the men gathered around her. "I'm sorry I let you think I left for any other reason. I was just… I was afraid of what the Suoh's would do if they found out and I couldn't risk involving you in deceiving them." Haruhi leaned forward, bowing at the waist. "Please forgive me if I hurt you."

"Awwww…" chorused the three men arrayed on the sofa. "You're so cute!" They swarmed over her, engulfing her in a group hug to the point where she could barely breathe. She knew Mori would extract her if she asked, but she didn't call out for help. She glanced at her stoic _sempai_ and her heart swelled at the pride she could see in his eyes. He gave the barest nod and she knew he had forgiven her as well.

"Of course we forgive you, Haruhi…" said Kaoru, pulling away and allowing the air to return.

"…But we want to meet him," continued Hikaru.

"Oh! Oh! Us too! Takashi and I want to meet him too!"

"I'd love for you to meet him," Haruhi replied, looking warily around the room, "Just maybe not all at once." Kids Daiki's age could only handle so much stimulation at one time and the Host Club _en masse_ was overwhelming.

"The weather this weekend is supposed to be good," Kyoya interjected, "Whatever _that_ means by Hokkaido standards, and I've booked all of you in here through Monday. I suggest Mori and Honey meet Daiki-kun Saturday and the twins can have Sunday."

Haruhi opened her mouth and he cut off the objection he knew was coming. "I'm sure I can arrange for the management at Honey Bunny's to allow you the time off. With pay." She opened her mouth again and he gave a slightly menacing grin. "You can consider that an order direct from the Chairman if you wish." He nodded meaningfully towards the blonde moppet visibly vibrating with excitement behind her.

"Yay! That means Takashi and I can take you both to the zoo!" Honey bit his bottom lip and widened his eyes. "Does Dai-chan like the zoo? We can go somewhere else if he doesn't…" His lower lip started quivering.

"Dai-chan loves the zoo, Honey-sempai," Haruhi hastened to reassure him.

"Me too! And you can bring the _bentos_!" Honey turned his pseudo-innocent gaze on her. "I haven't had Haruhi's _bentos_ in sooooooo long." He reached out and patted her on the head. "But don't worry - I know you don't cook sweet things so I'll bring the cake. I have a whole restaurant full of them!"

Haruhi just nodded her head, recognizing that she had no immunity against the demands of this master manipulator. She satisfied herself by scowling at the other one instead. Kyoya just smiled back at her knowingly. Rich, unscrupulous, bastard.

"Yum!" exclaimed the twins. They pressed their palms together and started singing, "We get to eat Haruhi's _bentos_. We get to eat Haruhi's _bentos_."

Confronted with the chaos the Host Club created by their mere existence, Haruhi realized that there was only one thing she could do. Gripping her stomach, she doubled over and her peals of laughter bounced off the walls until she had to wipe away tears from her eyes.

* * *

Kaoru rubbed his wet hair with a towel and pulled on a pair of grey joggers branded with black 'KH' on one leg. His brother was propped up against the headboard of the hotel bed typing furiously on a laptop balanced precariously on his knees. From his intense look of concentration, he was probably giving his design team detailed corrections on the most recent version of their prototype.

Or he could be rewriting the code to his standards himself. You could never tell with Hikaru.

Kaoru tossed the towel over a chair and flopped stomach first on the bed next to his twin's left side. Propping his elbows on the bed, he folded his hands and rested his chin on top. He batted his eyes exaggeratedly until Hikaru finally looked at him.

"What?" Hikaru said testily, "You're always up to something when you look at me like that."

"I was just wondering," Kaoru lazily turned over on his back and stretched his hands up towards the ceiling. "Now that we've got Haruhi back… Hika, how do you feel about her? Do you still like her?"

Hikaru shut his laptop and set it to the side. He wrapped his arms around his left knee and stretched his other leg out to its full length. He didn't speak, and Kaoru was smart enough not to fill the silence until his twin was ready to talk. "Yeah," he admitted softly. "I didn't realize it until I saw her again, but it all came rushing back." The back of his head thunked softly against the headboard when he tilted it back to gaze at the ceiling. "I'm not sure I ever stopped. _Tono_ was just important enough to me that I was willing to step aside for him."

Kaoru shrugged one shoulder. "I know."

Hikaru's head shot back upright. "How? I only just figured it out!"

Kaoru laughed. "Cause we're twins, _baka._ We know each other better than we know ourselves." He shrugged and laced his fingers together behind his head. "Besides, every girl you've ever dated has been like her in some way. Either in looks or personality."

Hikaru reached down and gave his brother a light rap with the back of his hand. "Jerk. You could have said something to me."

"Where's the fun in that?" Kaoru reached up and grabbed his brother's hand, interlacing their fingers. "Besides, as long as she was gone there was still the chance you'd move on. Of course, now that we've found her... " He peered up at his brother with a cat-like expression. "What are you going to do?"

Hikaru played fretfully with his twin's hand, rocking it back and forth in the air between them. "I don't think she's ready for anything, right now. We only just came back in her life."

"And she has a kid, too. That's going to make her extra cautious."

"I know." Hikaru shook his head disbelievingly. "How the heck did that happen?"

Kaoru laughed. "You seem pretty confused by this. Are you sure you're not the one of us who's gay?"

"Dumbass," Hikaru snorted, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. Haruhi isn't the type to be careless. I guess, sometimes, fate just steps in and takes a hand. Under the circumstances, I suppose we should all consider it a gift." Kaoru turned over on his stomach to look directly at his brother. "Now answer my question – what are you going to do?"

"There's no _tono_ this time." Hikaru squared his chin resolutely. "This time I won't back away or step aside. I'm going to go after her with everything I have."

"Good." Kaoru grinned broadly. "I've always wanted to have Haruhi as part of our family. And a nephew would be pretty cool too." He turned on his side and propped his head up with one hand. "You know Kyoya's in love with her, right?"

"Duh. That's been obvious for a long time." Hikaru slid down the bed until he and Kaoru lay next to each other. He flipped to his side and mirrored his brother's posture. "I don't know what he's up to, but he left her alone up here for five years. I never would have done that."

Kaoru nodded. "Whatever game he's playing, it's a long one."

"That's fine for _shoji_ or _go,_ but love is more like basketball. The first team to put points on the board usually wins."

Kaoru smiled devilishly, "Team Hiitachin did go undefeated on the courts for all those years."

"And we haven't done too badly since then." The twin's faces, centimeters apart, wore matching expressions of mischief. "I think, when it comes to this battle, we can take the Shadow King head on."


	9. Nudges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the section in italics are memories

"Haru-chan! We're over here!" The clear, bell-like voice rang out over the snow-covered park, drawing even more attention from the weekend crowd towards the two men standing at the gates of the Maruyama zoo.

Haruhi tried to smother her laugh, which only turned it into a grunt-like snort. It would be impossible for her to miss the pair - even if one of them wasn't jumping up and down waving his arms back and forth like he was signaling a plane to land. How could anyone fail to see two men who looked like they'd just stepped out of the pages of some fashion magazine advertising father/son winter-wear? Or miss the gaggles of middle school girls giggling behind their hands and sending pointed 'come talk to me' looks in Honey's direction?

She almost snorted again. The poor girls were doomed to disappointment.

Haruhi raised the hand lugging the large five-tier bento box wrapped in fabric to wave back. In retrospect, she should have allowed them to pick her up. The fifteen-minute walk from the station had her arm aching with the effort of keeping the box from swinging into her shins with every step, but a slight tug on her left hand reminded her of why she'd refused the ride.

Normal. That was the condition she'd placed on the former Host Club for meeting her son – no limos, no extravagance, nothing over-the-top. A trip to the park and meeting his father's friends was more than enough stimulation for a child without adding in the overindulgences of the world they lived in. A curl of apprehension wrapped around her heart and she looked down at the brown-haired boy waddling beside her in his maroon snowsuit. Soon, it would be a world her son would inhabit as well.

Stopping to catch her breath from the trudge through the snow, she looked up at the sky and squinted to shield her eyes from the glare off the clouds. Kyoya had, of course, been right about the weather being nice. A thin cloud cover muted the usual Sapporo cold and, for the first time since Christmas, the wind-chill factor was nearly zero.

Even so, negative three degrees was nothing to treat casually - unless you were Mori, who barely seemed bothered by it in his grey pants and long-sleeve white thermal shirt. His only concession to the cold was a sturdy pair of hiking boots, a blue-and-grey camo down vest, and a white knit band covering his ears. Honey, in electric-blue snowboarding gear that looked designed by Jackson Pollack, was much more sensibly dressed. Even if you took into account the bright-blue bunny-shaped earmuffs.

"Haru-chan! Dai-chan! Over here!" Honey repeated unnecessarily. Mori lightly rested a hand on his cousin's head and Haruhi could almost hear the murmured 'Mitskuni.' The younger man stopped bouncing but continued to wave at the Fujiokas so fast his hand was a blur.

The tug on her hand grew stronger the closer they came to the two waiting men. By the time they reached the gate, Daiki's steps had slowed until he was half-hiding behind her. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, surprised he wasn't bounding forward to greet them.

"Haru-chan!" Honey enthused yet again, gripping her in a quick hug as soon as they drew close. "Here, that must be heavy." He plucked the over-sized box from her hand. "You shouldn't have to carry that."

"Thank you, Honey-sempai, that's very thought…" She paused when a black-suited servant materialized out of nowhere to take the box his master handed him. "…ful," she concluded, rolling her eyes. So much for 'normal.' Five years had been enough time to forget the ever-present entourage who surrounded the rich, handling all the little inconveniences of daily life.

"Did you get your tickets already?" she asked, reaching inside the pocket of her parka for her wallet, "We come here a lot so I have a season pass. It's only a thousand yen per year and children have free admission."

"Oh, that's okay Haru-chan," Honey bubbled, waving his hand towards a uniformed zoo employee standing unobtrusively near the gate, "The zoo director arranged a private tour for us 'cause of Takashi's work with injured wild animals."

"Oh..." Haruhi swallowed her sigh. It was probably best to accept that 'normal' was a thing of the past. But then, on some level she'd known that the minute she invited the Host Club back into her life. "That sounds… nice." She could have sworn she saw a faint glimmer of amused sympathy in her more stoic friend's eyes.

Honey crouched down beside her, arms wrapped around his knees as he addressed the figure clinging to her leg. "Hi Dai-chan! My name's Honey and he's Mori," he chirped, gesturing towards his cousin with his hand.

Daiki gripped his mother's hand tightly and she leaned down to encourage him, "It's okay Dai…"

"Can you really beat a hundred men in a fight?" Daiki asked breathlessly.

Haruhi stood back up and chuckled, turning her head to the side to prevent Daiki from seeing her laugh. She should have known. Her 'nobody-a-stranger' son wasn't overwhelmed or afraid – he was in awe. The boy was looking at the two men with the same expression he reserved for when his favorite superheroes made an appearance at the local shopping center. What _had_ Kyoya been telling him?

Honey's eyes widened to saucer-like proportions. "I don't know… I don't think I've fought that many," he replied, neatly side-stepping the issue of his fighting skill. "Are you excited about seeing the animals, Dai-chan? I am. What's your favorite zoo animal? I think the polar bears and red pandas are the cutest!"

Releasing his mother's hand, Daiki swung the small backpack he'd been carrying around to the front. He partly unzipped it and pulled out a slightly-worn stuffed tanuki. "This is Ki-chan," he said solemnly and offered it to Honey for examination.

Honey's face split in a broad grin. "I bet I know why it's your favorite." Leaning in he whispered in Daiki's ear, "Cause it looks like your Okaa-chan, ne?"

Daiki covered his mouth with his hands and giggled, nodding his head in reply.

Honey handed Ki-chan back and stood, reaching out his hand to Daiki who grasped it eagerly. "Takashi has a tanuki named Pome." His chocolate-brown eyes held nothing but innocence as he cast a glance at Haruhi. "Maybe you can come to Tokyo and meet it someday."

Haruhi narrowed her gaze at the boy lolita, silently warning him off the topic.

Honey simply smiled guilelessly and pulled Daiki over towards his silent cousin. The boy's mouth gaped and he craned his neck all the way back to look up at Mori. "You really are a giant!"

"Dai-chan, don't be rude," Haruhi admonished and began stammering out an apology to her friend.

Mori tilted his head and looked at the small boy, his face giving no indication to his thoughts. Suddenly he reached down, grabbed Daiki by the waist with both hands, and flipped him to sit on top of his shoulders. "Now you're the giant," he rumbled.

Laughing, Honey grabbed Haruhi by the hand and pulled her through the gates, dashing through them at a speed that nearly yanked her arm from the socket. "C'mon, let's go see the tanuki first! I wanna feed them!"

* * *

"Mori-ji, this way. The penguins are over here!" Daiki raced along the concrete path, lugging the tall man behind him by the hand like a tugboat piloting a freighter. The zoo employee, his once genial expression now pinched and drained, scurried behind in their wake. Haruhi could already hear the reedy tenor peppering the beleaguered man with questions. "Do penguins have ears? Why can't they fly? Do they have feathers? Can I have one of the feathers?..."

"I don't know how he still has energy," she sighed. Her feet scuffed along the path, kicking aside small de-icing pellets with every weary step. In contrast, Honey radiated cheerfulness, loping alongside her with his hands tucked in his pockets. Clearly, she was the only one exhausted at trying to keep up with the slightly-over-100-centimeter tall whirlwind who had insisted they visit all his favorite animals.

In order.

A shadow crossed Honey's face as he watched the boy jumping up and down excitedly pointing at the birds. "He's a lot like Tama-chan, ne?"

"Yes, he is." It was strange, hearing someone say aloud what she had often thought. "But, also not. The older he gets the more his personality becomes something uniquely his."

Honey stopped suddenly, forcing her to turn back around to face him. Concern lined his features, making him look closer to his true age. "It must have been hard for you, Haru-chan. Doing it all on your own."

Haruhi found it hard to meet his gaze. There was very little she could say to that which wouldn't sound like complaining. She wasn't a victim, any hardship she'd encountered had been the result of her own choices.

"Haru-chan, why didn't you tell us?" It wasn't an accusation, but nothing could hide the underlying hurt in his tone. "I can understand not telling the others, but Takashi and I… We would have helped you."

"I know. That's why I couldn't do it." She made her way over to a nearby bench and sat down. Honey sat beside her, drawing his knees up to his chest and swinging around to face her. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on the top of his knees. "Do you remember Spain? And Carmen?" she asked, "I know that isn't her real name, but it's been so long I can't remember it…" She trailed off, leaving a gap for him to respond before pressing on.

"I never forgot what Mori-sempai said then about running away being the easy way out. That if your serious about what you want, you should take your family into consideration. I know how important family is to you. To both of you. And, whatever my reasons, I chose to take Daiki away from his. To not even let them know of his existence. I… I didn't think you'd approve." She glanced at her friend. He said nothing, but the smallest flicker of regret in his eyes were all the confirmation she needed. "But I knew that if I asked, you'd help me anyway. I couldn't put either of you want to put you in a position where you'd be doing something you thought was…. dishonorable."

"But Haru-chan," he said quietly, "It doesn't matter what Takashi and I think. What matters is what you think." Honey hugged his knees tighter and peered up at her through ridiculously long blond eyelashes. "Do _you_ think it was dishonorable?"

"I… I don't know. Sometimes. Most of the time I think it was the only thing I could do…" She stared off into the distance, her vision clouded by images from that terrible year when she'd turned eighteen flipping past like pages in a magazine.

. . .

_The rattle of the doorknob interrupts her concentration. Looking up from her exam studies, she greets her father as he staggers in from another long shift at the bar. Without removing his dress or makeup, he collapses onto his futon and waves away the dinner she'd made him – once again too tired to eat._

_*flip*_

_The twins lean out the windows of the limo to wave goodbye while they drive away after dropping her back home from the Tamaki-mandated trip to the amusement park in celebration of their graduation. Her heart jumps when the unlocked apartment door swings open at her touch, bouncing against an obstruction in the entryway. A slight push brings two feet lying next to a pair of red high-heels into view. Her breathing stops._

_*flip*_

_Ranka's hand clutches hers and he smiles reassuringly. She is not convinced. Tamaki rests his hand on her shoulder and her father makes half-hearted attempts at outrage. In the background, as if from a far distance, she hears Kyoya interrogating the doctors, demanding that they do something. The words 'end stage liver cancer' and 'incurable' barely register in her consciousness._

_*flip*_

_The chanting seems to go on forever and she fights to keep from sneezing as the incense burns her nostrils. The Host Club – even Kyoya - ignores etiquette and sit beside her, refusing to let her be alone in the seats for family. Ranka's coworkers, their usual bright plumage hidden behind black suits and somber expressions, fill the rows of chairs behind her. The next day, she allows only Tamaki to stand beside her as she places the ashes of Fujioka Ryoji in the same grave as his beloved wife._

_*flip*_

_She stares at the white plastic rectangle resting on top of the bathroom sink, trying to convince herself she's wrong, that the fatigue and nausea plaguing her since the beginning of summer break have another cause. Two blue lines are all the answer she needs. Fear and shock pull at her and she slides down the wall to rest on the floor. Minutes pass and her hand comes to rest lightly on her abdomen. Slowly, she smiles._

_*flip*_

_The knock on the door is over five hours late. Concern replaced irritation a long time ago and she flings open the door ready to hug, then scold. The wan, lifeless face of the man at the door stops her in her tracks. Stammering, she invites her boyfriend's father in. The August evening is hot and humid but all she can feel is a cold that never seems to end._

. . .

Haruhi moved her head as if shaking off the past and forced herself to meet her senior's too knowing gaze. "Losing my father, then Tamaki so suddenly… all I could think was that I couldn't cope with losing Daiki too." One corner of her mouth pulled up in a depreciating smile. "I'm a hypocrite. Once I lectured the Suohs on how they just needed to talk to each other but when my turn came I chose the coward's way out."

Honey tilted his head and studied her. After a long minute, he slowly shook his head. "No. I don't think you were a coward, Haru-chan. If you were, you wouldn't have stayed in Japan or worked so hard to fulfill your dream of being a lawyer. I think you just needed time to get stronger so you could face Tamaki's family properly – and there's nothing dishonorable in that."

"Do you really think so, Honey-sempai?"

"Of course!" The flowery tone was muted by his still somber eyes. "Haru-chan, sometimes life puts us in a situation where any choice you make is going to hurt someone. When that happens, it's okay to pick the option that lets you still face yourself afterward."

Haruhi reeled, Honey's words cut through straight to the heart of her fears. The real reason running had seemed her only option. Even if the Suoh's had embraced her as well as her son, they would have remade her into something other than herself. In the best case, she would have ended up a pampered princess in a cage forever imprisoned by the threat of losing her son. But she wasn't that girl anymore – five years in exile had taught her exactly what she was capable of.

And if anyone threatened her child, they'd find out as well.

Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled at her child-like sempai, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair as she did Daiki's. "Were you always this wise, Honey-sempai?" she asked, "Or did you grow up while I was gone?"

Honey jumped off the bench and put one finger up to his lips while leaning towards her and winking. "That's a secret!" He twirled away, stretched out his arms while keeping fingers pointed towards the sky, and skipped over to the penguin exhibit. "Dai-chan, have you played the Animal Walk game?" he called out. Haruhi rose and followed after him, feet protesting with every step.

Honey grabbed Daiki's hand and drug him towards a tiled pathway dotted with painted pictures of different zoo animals. "You have to go across it only stepping on the animal tiles. Oh!" His face fell in disappointment so strong Haruhi would swear she could see his lip quivering even though she was still ten meters away. "But Takashi can't play. His legs are too long for the game to be fair."

With that, the cousins switched places and Mori fell back to accompany Haruhi. The two wordlessly observed the more energetic members of their party. At the Walk, Daiki jumped from tile-to-tile using all his effort. Honey scampered along the pathway acrobatically, flipping in the air and landing on as many tiles with his hands as with his feet.

"He's a good boy," Mori said, breaking the companionable silence between them. His lips turned upward in a soft smile and he looked down at her. "You did a good job raising him."

Haruhi flushed at the praise and lifted her shoulder in a shrug. "Thank you, Sempai, but I don't think I can take credit for anything. To be honest, I have no idea how he ended up the way he did."

This time it was Mori's turn to shrug before turning back to watch as Daiki and Honey reached the end of the Walk and turned to play the game again going the other way. "No feet this time, Honey-ji!" Daiki said with a scolding tone, "You're too fast!" Honey laughed and obediently began a fast paced series of handsprings, landing a palm squarely on an animal tile with each revolution.

Haruhi stepped back and observed her silent friend. His eyes were gentle as he watched the two play and a smile played around his lips. She wondered if, when he looked at them, he was gazing into the past or imagining the future – replacing the figures with little black-haired tots of his own. "I heard you're engaged, Mori-sempai. Congratulations."

He turned to accept her well wishes and gave a polite acknowledgement in return. The faintest trace of red colored his cheeks betrayed his feelings and she smiled to herself, Mori really was besotted with his future bride. "I'm glad." Her smile grew broader. "You deserve to be happy."

He looked at her intently for almost a full minute. She had begun to believe he wouldn't respond at all when he opened his mouth. "Haruhi," he replied in a tone which commanded her attention. "So do you."

She returned to watching Honey and Daiki play. Really, there was nothing to say to that.

* * *

Daiki snuggled up against his mother, snoring softly with his arms tightly wrapped around Ki-chan. The soft vibration of the limo had sent him to sleep almost the instant it pulled away from the zoo's gates. The long day had caught up to him right as the chimes announced the zoo's closing and he'd begun to doze off as Mori carried him on his back, waking occasionally to sleepily protest that he wanted to see one more exhibit.

Haruhi, feet hurting and exhausted herself, hadn't been able to muster the will to turn down the offer of a ride home.

"That was fun!" Honey chirped, but quietly so as not to wake the sleeping boy. He bounced up and down in the rear-facing seat across from her. "We should do it again, right Takashi?" Mori jerked his head in a sharp nod and grunted in agreement. "Are you going to move to Tokyo, Haru-chan?"

Haruhi blinked, startled at the rapid change of topic. "I… I don't know yet."

"I think that would be good," he said with a voice dripping in sunlight and daisies. "We could go to the amusement park, and the aquarium, and all sorts of places!"

"I haven't decided yet," she said with more edge than she'd intended. She needed time to think about it. Time where she didn't feel like she was being backed into a corner where her every instinct would be to rebel.

"I'm sorry, Haru-chan." Honey's eyes widened but, to her surprise the tears she'd expected didn't fall. "I'm being selfish. I hope you at least come to visit us there." He smiled slyly. "Besides, it would be good for Rei-chan to have a friend who's a mama too."

Haruhi gasped. "Honey-sempai! You mean Reiko-chan is…"

The blonde broke out in a grin. "Yep! Two months!" He gave a conspiratorial wink. "But it's still quiet, 'kay? You're the only one who knows besides family." His brow furrowed slightly. "Except, Kyo-chan probably knows because we used his family's hospital. And he knows everything."

"Congratulations! You'll be a wonderful father," she said as the limo turned the last corner to her apartment. The way he'd interacted with Daiki today, she knew that statement to be true – as long as Reiko kept him from slipping his child cake whenever her back was turned.

She allowed Mori to lift Daiki out from the car, but insisted on taking the drowsing child herself once on the sidewalk. First, though, she had to extricate herself from Honey's clinging hug. Only the promise that she would email him every week loosened his grip. She refused their offer to walk her up and she headed up the stairs, Daiki cradled in her arms. Both men lingered on the sidewalk, refusing to reenter the limo until after she had securely shut her door behind her.

As the car pulled away from the dilapidated building, Honey dug around in the large gift basket the zoo director had bestowed on them as they left, throwing aside mugs and books until he found what he was looking for. He popped back up with two white packages bearing black circles and lines in the shape of a face. "Did you see the polar bear ramen? Cute, ne? Maybe we should offer animal cakes at Honey Bunny's. We could have polar bears and bunnies and pandas…" He tossed the packages back in the basket. "I'll call Kyo-chan about it right away…"

"Mitskuni," Mori said, his mouth curved in a frown, "You pushed her too hard."

"You really think so, Takashi?" Honey wrinkled his brow, tucked his hands under his thighs at the edge of the seat and stuck his legs out straight. He rocked back and forth, using the backs of his hands as a pivot, mulling over his cousin's reproof. After a minute, he stopped and shook his head. "No. I don't think so. She wants to come back; she just needs to convince herself it's the right choice." A beaming grin of satisfaction split his face. "I think I played it juuuust right."


	10. Goodbyes

"Scared?" Hikaru whispered softly in her ear, the warm tickle of his breath against her frozen extremity making her shiver involuntarily. Without warning, two arms snaked around her waist and jerked her back up off her feet, slamming her into a solid wall of muscle and she yelped in surprise. "If you are, just hold on to me," he purred.

"Get off," Haruhi grunted and squirmed against him, pushing her elbows sharply into his arms until he let her go. "Why would I be scared?" She turned around to face him and wrinkled her brow.

"Well, the last time you were on a snowy mountain it was a bit traumatic." He brushed his hand against the side of her hat, tucking a stray hair back into her knit cap. His palm lingered against her cheek and gazed into her eyes.

She quirked her eyebrow back at him. His face had a weird, strangled expression on it. Maybe she should ask if he was okay? He looked somewhat constipated. "Hikaru, if you need it I have some medicine in my purse…"

"Just stay with me, I'll protect you."

Haruhi snorted, realizing he was just up to his usual tricks. She turned her head, dislodging his hand, and watched as an inner tube holding a six and four-year-old squealing delightedly careened by. "Yea-ah," she drawled. "I think I'll be fine." Turning back to face up the hillside, she craned her neck and waved at Daiki and Kaoru who'd managed to secure a position about ten places ahead. The nice-for-Sapporo Sunday had brought out the crowds and the local sledding hill was packed.

Behind her back, Hikaru sighed and shook his head. All morning he'd been throwing his best stuff at her, lines and whispers and heated glances that had made women on five continents swoon in his arms and drop their clothes at his feet. But with her? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. She was an ice wall of obliviousness and everything just slid right past. He was even down to the dregs of his material. 'Stay with me? I'll protect you?' What the hell kind of soppy, badly-written drivel was that?

But, what else could he do? He wasn't going to repeat the mistakes of eight years ago. This time, he wouldn't confess out of the blue to a woman already half-in-love with someone else. Instead, he'd make her aware of him as a man first. Plant the seeds now so that when he did confess, they'd be ready to bloom.

Or something like that. It had sounded really good in his head and Kaoru hadn't completely laughed it off like he had some of the other ideas.

"So why do we need to ride down together, anyway?" Haruhi asked, swinging back around to face him.

Hikaru jerked his attention from his inner musings and back to the woman in front of him. She was peering up at him with those gorgeous over-sized eyes which not even the horrific silver parka and tattered, grey knit cap she was wearing could distract him from. He shrugged. "We were only able to rent two inner tubes because of the crowds. And Kao called the munchkin."

Best. Wingman. Ever.

"I'm a little surprised, to be honest." She gave a little half-smile which could bring an army to its knees. "I half expected to show up and find you'd rented out the whole park."

"You said normal." He looked around at all the crowds pressing in on him, reflexively dodging eye contact from those who might be looking too close. These days, looking like his brother could be a drawback. "I thought about it. It would have been more convenient not to have to keep our hair covered and sunglasses on to avoid getting recognized." It was all Kaoru's fault for acting as his own spokes model. Tech CEO's never had this problem outside of very limited venues. "But it wouldn't have been very normal."

"I guess I didn't really expect you guys to listen to me." Her eyes crinkled and her lips turned up in the smile she gave when she was truly happy. For a minute, it felt like the sun had emerged from the clouds and shone down a beam of light on the snow behind her, turning it into a field of sparkles. "Thanks, Hikaru."

Impulsively, he grabbed her gloved hand and started to lift it up towards his lips. "I always strive to give a woman what she wants."

"Whatever." Haruhi rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and flexed her hand upward. His descending face collided with her palm and, with a flick of her wrist, she pushed him away. Off-balance, he stumbled back and landed on his butt in the snow with a loud 'Oouf.'

Aargh! What was he doing wrong?

* * *

Hikaru's neck hurt and there was a weight pressing down on his back, but at least he had landed on something soft.

He pushed himself up on one arm and reached his other hand around to rub the back of his neck. Tentatively opening his eyes, at first he saw only orange. Light orange through one eye and dark orange through the other. He blinked a few times and the color resolved itself into the sides of the inner tube he and Haruhi had just been on distorted through sunglasses that had been knocked askew.

His eyes flew open in panic and he whipped of his sunglasses to see better, frantically searched left and right for his sledding companion before it dawned on him that she was the something soft he'd landed on. "Haruhi? Haruhi, are you okay?" He searched her face and chest for signs of life, fighting to stay calm. If she'd only just open her eyes.

"Owww," she groaned, "What happened?"

Hikaru huffed out a sigh of relief. "We hit a bump and flipped," he replied as memory of soaring through the air and then having all his breath being knocked out of him with a thud returned. "It was fun up until then, though, right?"

Haruhi giggled and winced slightly. "Yeah, it was fun."

As his initial panic ebbed, he became aware of other sensations - the light strawberry scent from her bargain shampoo filling the enclosed space, the warmth of their body heat trapped by the inner tube, the soft flesh beneath him. "You know," he teased, deliberately keeping his tone playful while giving her his best seductive smile, "We could have some fun like this too."

A blush formed on her cheeks and he wanted to shout. Finally! Finally he was beginning to get to her. Beginning to make her aware of him. Before he could say anything else, she shoved against him hard enough to toss both him and the inner tube lying across his back to the side. She stood up, towering above him with fists clenched, and he realized his mistake. The redness on her face wasn't embarrassment or arousal – it was anger.

"Hikaru! Knock. It. Off." She snarled in a voice pitched to only reach his ears. "I get that you and Kao are very… tactile and like to tease. And I don't mind it normally - but we are older now and there are limits. I won't let you do anything in front of Dai-chan that he might misunderstand."

Hikaru looked at her, stunned by her naivety. How could she still think this was just platonic teasing? A year in the Host Club, two years dating Tamaki, even a kid and she _still_ couldn't recognize the seriousness behind his words? He stood up to face her, his frustration rapidly hitting a boiling point. "God, Haruhi! You have got to be the most obliv…"

"Hika, I'm hungry!" Kao's voice shot across the snow and cut off his brother's diatribe. "Why don't you take Dai-kun for another run while Haruhi and I go check out the food stands?"

Haruhi turned towards the interruption, her chest still heaving from outrage. Hikaru watched as she brought herself under control, giving Daiki a smile to shield him from thinking that there had been anything wrong. "If we want lunch, I can grab the _bento_ I made out of the locker."

"Nah, I'm in the mood for something warm." Kaoru looked at her imploringly. "My treat." He turned to a family of five passing by and offered them his inner tube, which they accepted gratefully.

"Why not," Haruhi replied, still giving Hikaru a glare that made him press his lips together in a hard line, "I could use some time off the hill." The words _'and away from you'_ hung unspoken in the air. He turned from her and made a show of being preoccupied with checking his sunglasses and slipping them back on.

Daiki skipped up to his mother, tugging on her sleeve for her to bend down and let him whisper in her ear. When he was done, she stood back up and took her son's hand. She gave Kaoru a half-bow. "But please excuse us first." Turning, she and Daiki headed over to the wooden shacks housing the public bathrooms.

The minute they were out of earshot, Kaoru whacked his brother on the arm. "Ouch!" Hikaru rubbed the spot and scowled. "What the hell was that for?"

"Because, O-niiiiii-saaaan," Kaoru sang mockingly, "You? Are blowing it."

"I'm doing fine," Hikaru scoffed, irritated that someone else had noticed how ineptly he was acting, "Besides, I think I know a little bit more about women than you, little brother."

Kaoru laughed off his brother's sarcastic snarl. "Yeah, but when it comes to love I'm _your_ elder."

The fight drained out of him and Hikaru could only lift one shoulder, lazily conceding his brother's point.

"Look," Kaoru said, taking the risk of being recognized by fashion-obsessed fan-girls by pulling off his hat and running his fingers through his hair. "Haruhi is not some fling or a girl already half in love with you because you're handsome and rich. That Lothario act of yours just isn't going to work on her." Replacing his green cap, he pulled Hikaru's face around to his and used the reflection from his brother's sunglasses to make sure he'd tucked away any hint of his telltale red locks. "I mean, aside from the fact that she's still utterly dense - those tricks never affected her. She's immune." Kaoru finished primping and stepped back.

"Damn it!" Hikaru cursed under his breath, shoulders slumping forward in acknowledgement that his brother was right. Haruhi had always looked beneath the surface, instinctively looking for the person underneath the roles they played. It was what had made them, made him, love her. He'd been going about it all wrong – it was no wonder she'd gotten angry. "God, Kao," he moaned, "What am I supposed to do then? This is the only way I know to get a woman interested in me."

Kaoru's arm wrapped around his shoulder and Hikaru leaned his head on his twin's shoulder, allowing the younger one to comfort him. The crowds moving past glanced at them and whispered behind their hands but neither brother paid them any heed. "I know it's hard, Hika. But all our tricks and games are just there to keep people out. If you want a real relationship you have to let them go. You need to find a way to get your feelings across to her."

"Well _that's_ helpful," Hikaru groaned, stepping out of Kaoru's embrace. "Don't suppose you could be more specific? How did you manage it?"

"What I did won't work for you." Kaoru smiled a broad grin that split his face in two. "We _are_ two different people, you know. This is something you need to figure out on your own. And think fast, because they're coming back." He lifted his hand to wave at the two returning figures then whacked it into his brother's back, shoving him forward. "In the meantime, go hit the hill with Dai-kun so I can get _my_ Haruhi time."

Hikaru shot his brother a glare, which was somewhat undermined by the grin pulling at his lips. Resigning himself to losing Haruhi's company, he cupped his hands and called out to Daiki, "C'mon monkey, Hika-ji wants to show you how fast he can get the inner tube spinning."

* * *

"Kaoru, is Hikaru still angry with me?" Kaoru turned away from observing the food carts lined up on the outskirts of the park, still mentally debating whether steamed buns or yakitori would be the better choice. Beside him, Haruhi's eyes were wrinkled at the corner with worry and she was nibbling her lower lip.

"Why do you ask that?" He asked carefully, not fully denying it. After all these years, even he wasn't sure how much anger Hikaru still held on to. All he knew was that, right now, his brother was too scared of losing her again to risk giving it voice.

"It's just… he's been acting strange today. It feels like he's putting on an act with me. I thought, maybe he's still angry and trying not to acknowledge it."

Kaoru stifled his snort at just how off the mark she was. "Trust me, that's not it. Oh! Roasted yams, I haven't had those in forever!" He took her elbow and guided her over to the line for the cart he wanted. The caramel scent of fire roasted sweet potatoes wafted over them and he saw Haruhi's eyes light up at the promise of food. "He's… he's just having a hard time figuring out how to reconnect with you. My brother's changed a lot in the last few years and I don't think he knows how to show you that."

"Kyoya-sempai said that Hikaru was… that both of you were angry for a long time." Big, solemn eyes searched him, silently pleading for the truth.

"Yeah, we were. _I_ was," he replied without a trace of lingering animosity, "That was a long time ago. We got over it." He could tell from the stubborn little set of her chin that she wouldn't leave it there.

Kaoru refused to say anything else until after purchasing the yams, taking two away in a paper bag to give to Hikaru and Daiki. Heading away from the crowd, he guided their way to a semi-secluded grove which gave some privacy. When he lounged comfortably against a tree and removed his gloves, Haruhi did the same picking a sturdy trunk just across from him. Steam rose off their potatoes as they unwrapped them. He took a bite to buy himself more time to compose his thoughts, savoring the explosion of sweet and warmth on his tongue.

"The first few months I was pretty upset. But when you stayed gone, when I knew that Kyoya had found your location but still hadn't dragged you back, I figured you had to have a good reason and I chose to let it go. "

"What about Hikaru?" she asked softly.

"Hikaru… Hikaru took it really hard. He just shut down, withdrew from everyone, including me. It wasn't just you disappearing; he was more attached to _tono_ than he'd ever admit and... well, you know he's never been good at handling his feelings." He shook his head to drive away the memories of that bleak time. "It got pretty bad. Gods, some of the places Kyoya and I pulled him out of…."

"Kyoya-sempai?" Haruhi paused mid-bite and popped up her head at the name. "Didn't he go back to Harvard?"

"After… after everything he decided to stay in Japan. He claimed it was because he'd get his Master's degree faster in Ouran's accelerated program but I think it was so he could keep an eye on everyone."

Haruhi's expression softened and her lip curved in a small, bittersweet smile, "He never does like getting acknowledged for things like that."

"Yeah, he likes to stay in the shadows in more ways than one." He let silence stretch between them and wolfed down a few more bites of his snack. At the tree across from him, Haruhi simply stared at her food with big, sorrowful eyes. "Hey, I'm not telling you this to make you sad, you know? It's just to give you some context."

Haruhi lifted her head and blinked owlishly. "Context for what?"

"For how Hikaru's changed. One day, about six months after you'd gone, he just… pulled himself out of it. It was like a flip had switched. He was still playful and mischievous, but there was a more serious side too. He was full of energy and ideas, but now he had the drive to make them happen. Somehow he talked Kyoya into funding a tech start-up, dropped out of college, moved to New York, and threw himself into making it a success."

Haruhi's eyebrows lifted so high they were nearly off her face. "He moved away? By himself?"

Kaoru laughed, "No. That would have been too big a change. For either of us." He shrugged and finished his potato, crumpling the paper and stuffing it in the bag with the two for their companions. "I decided to go with him. College couldn't really teach me more about fashion design than I already knew and Kyoya offered some capital to start my own line."

She finished her yam and he reached out his hand to take the wrapper. "You aren't taking over your mother's business?"

"Oh, that's right – you wouldn't know. Hika and I have a baby sister now." Kaoru beamed as he talked about the most important girl in his life. "Ageha's five in September. If you move to Tokyo she'll be Daiki's kohai next year." He lifted one shoulder up in a faint shrug. "Our family is sort of matriarchal so she'll be carrying on the Hitachiin name."

"That must have been hard on you."

"Eh, not really." He dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. "We never expected to follow in our parents' footsteps. Our family doesn't have a multi-generational empire like Kyoya or a dynasty stretching back past the Edo era like Honey. Hitachiins are expected to find something they love and excel at it. And that's what we've done."

Haruhi tilted her head and looked at him until he squirmed slightly under the too insightful gaze. Slowly, she shook her head. "I don't believe you. I think you were more upset than you're saying, Kaoru."

He sidled up to her and draped his arm around her waist, laying his head on her shoulder and peering up at her. "If I admitted I was, how would you comfort me? Could we eat dinner at your house? Do you know how long it's been since I had home made hot pot?"

She laughed and shrugged him off, "No. I already made you two a _bento_ you haven't eaten. You don't deserve dinner."

"Awwww," he whined playfully. He grew sober and leaned up next to her against the tree she'd claimed so their arms touched. "I suppose I was, at the time. In the end it was for the best, though. My style is different from my mom's – younger, edgier, more street than couture – and this way I got to find my own voice." He smiled to show her that any resentment over losing what could have been his inheritance was in the past. "Plus, I really love living in New York."

"I'm glad. You do seem happy." She stepped forward away from the tree and turned to face him. "I'm sorry, Kaoru. I… regret that I wasn't able to be there for you guys when you needed me."

"Haruhi, that's enough. Stop apologizing! You did what you felt you had to do and, if we're your friends, we'll accept it." Kaoru's annoyance faded when Haruhi dropped her eyes and her cheeks flushed – he couldn't help it, her natural responses were just so cute. He turned up his mouth in a smile and chuckled. "Besides, if we weren't willing to forgive you, we'd still be in New York. Do you have any idea how close fashion week is? I'm freaking out every minute I'm away from the studio."

Distress chased away the chagrin from her eyes and he sighed, realizing she'd taken his off-hand joke the wrong way. Sometimes Hika's foot-in-mouth disease seemed catching.

"I hadn't thought of that," she said softly, "Sorry. Getting that call suddenly must have been troublesome. You didn't need to come."

" _Baka_!" He reached out one long arm to whack her lightly on the top of her head with the edge of his hand. "There you go apologizing again. Of course we had to come. Stop underestimating how important you are to us."

She reached up to rub the top of her head and gave a shy smile. His arms reached out of their own accord and pulled her into an impulsive hug. She struggled slightly before relaxing, wrapping her arms around his waist and letting him cling as tightly as he needed to. "If you want to make it up to me then say you'll be patient with my brother." He murmured low and fierce. "Give him a chance to show you who he is now."

He released her and chucked one finger under her chin and tilted it up to meet his eyes. "And don't leave us. Don't hurt him like that again, Haru, or I may have to stop being the nice twin." He was smiling and kept his tone gentle, but he meant every word.

Haruhi nodded solemnly and he dropped his hand. Switching back to his previous light mood he grinned and waved the bag containing the remaining yams under her nose. "Think Hika and Dai-kun would mind if we ate theirs?" He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as the scent wafted over him. "I'm still hungry and I haven't had these in a loooooong time."

She held out her hand, accepting his peace offering, and he tossed her a yam with a wink before diving into his own. "I haven't had them in a while, either," she confessed while devouring her second as fast as she had the first. "But I'm surprised you like them so much."

"What can I say? _Tono_ was onto something with the whole 'commoner food' thing."

"Yeah, right!" Every line of her body radiated skepticism. "You used to whine about eating in any restaurant that didn't have at least one star."

"Living in New York has changed my tastes." When she paused eating long enough to glower in disbelief he snorted. "No, really! It has. My partner has a thing for dragging me to those 'authentic' places where the chef is someone's grandma from the home country and the kitchen looks like it violates a thousand health codes. Someday, I'll die from food poisoning but my taste buds will be satisfied. You never find roasted yams, though," he muttered licking the last of it off his fingers, "it's all sushi and ramen when it comes to Japanese food."

"Partner? Kyoya-sempai didn't say anything about you being with someone."

"Well, that's Kyoya for you - relationships are only significant if there's a ring involved. It's all about the merger of two families with him."

"Is that not something you're ready for yet?" she probed delicately.

"It's… complicated." He sighed and leaned his head back against the tree, looking up at the branches. "I'm only twenty-four for one thing. And, well, we could get married in the U.S., but it wouldn't be legally recognized here which just doesn't sit right with me." He brought his head down and watched realization dawn in her eyes while her face remained void of emotion. He chuckled at her complete lack of anything which might be called a typical response. "Surprised?"

She wrinkled her brow a little. "Just that you never said anything before. I mean, it's not like it changes anything."

"That's the Haruhi I know." He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "No wonder you were the only girl I ever loved. Though, in my defense, you made a very cute boy." He winked at her. "It turns out there was a reason it was so easy for me to give you up for my brother."

The little furrow between her brows grew deeper. "Loved? Give me up?" Her eyes suddenly opened wide enough to meet her hairline. "Wait! Was _that_ what our trip to the amusement park was about?"

Kaoru stared at her for a minute, utterly stunned. "Oh my God, Haruhi! Are you serious? It's been, what, _eight years_ and you never realized that I was confessing to you then?"

Her mouth twisted in a smile that was half apologetic and half grimace. "Maybe? I guess I just didn't want to assume anything."

"Oh. Wow. I mean, there's dense and then there is _dense!_ Seriously, a woman with a kid shouldn't be that unaware of men."

"Geez. Let it go, Kaoru. I was fifteen!" She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes in irritation. "Besides, it's not like I was going to go asking you about it after all the drama with Hikaru and Tamaki."

He clutched at his chest as if mortally wounded. "I feel like a precious high school memory has just been ripped apart. I think you need to invite me to your house for dinner to make it up to me. If you don't want to cook hot pot, I'll take omelette rice."

"No way!" She collapsed against the tree next to him, giving him a slight shove. Kaoru draped his arm around her shoulders in response, crooking his elbow to ruffle her hair. "So, when did you start figuring things out?" she asked quietly, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's just… when I left you were both still dating girls."

"I don't mind. If I'd been willing to be honest with myself earlier than you would have been one of the first people I told."

"Were you afraid of how people would react?"

He waggled his hand dismissively in front of his face. "That wasn't it. My family's in fashion, if anyone would be accepting it was them. And I knew my friends wouldn't care. It was… this would sound weird to anyone who didn't know us but the thing that held me back was that was _IT._ The one thing that would forever make Hikaru and I two separate people."

Kaoru shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at his feet. As he talked he scuffed the snow with the tip of his boot, gradually heaping it into a little pile by his toes. "We were always 'us', even if there were nuances that let people tell us apart. We liked and disliked the same things. Every trait that was Hikaru's was also mine. Everything that was mine was also Hikaru's. We didn't want to be identical, but we never wanted to be _different_."

He tilted his head back and lightly hit the back of it against the tree. "I think I always knew our self-contained bubble would finally break the day we found something we couldn't share. I just thought it would be because we liked the same, indivisible thing – not because we each liked something the other never would. I didn't want to be the one to take that last step."

"What changed?"

He looked down into her serious eyes and smiled sadly. "Tamaki's death. Realizing someone so full of life could be snuffed out just like that?" He snapped his fingers. "It woke me up. Made me understand that life was too damn short to go around pretending I'd be able to love people I couldn't." He reached in his parka for his iPhone. He unlocked the screen and pulled up his picture gallery then handed it to Haruhi. "Here, this is Stefan."

Haruhi took the phone, smiling at the slight blush on her friend's cheeks and the awkward way he wouldn't quite look at her. The picture on the screen showed a handsome man in a cable knit sweater with mussed brown hair and round glasses framing a pair of piercing blue eyes. Her fingers hovered over the phone and she raised her eyebrows at Kaoru, silently asking for permission. With his nod, she swiped the screen, paging through picture after picture featuring the same subject – Stefan posing goofily next to a statue in a city she didn't recognize, napping on a sofa with a grey-and-white cat curled in a ball on his chest, with his arms wrapped tightly around Kaoru's waist, both of them beaming as city lights twinkled in the background.

She handed the phone back. "He kind of looks like that English actor…"

Kaoru's face lit up like a fireworks display. "I know, right? Very grown-up Harry Potter. Turns out that whole _megane_ thing is totally my type." He pocketed the phone and put his gloves back on, giving her a Cheshire cat grin. "Someday, if you get me drunk enough, I'll tell you all about the crush I had on Kyoya second year."

She couldn't help grinning at how Kaoru's eyes glowed and how his whole body became animated when he talked about his lover. "How did you meet?"

"Stefan's from an old Italian design family. He modeled for a while then switched to hair and make-up design. We met after one of mom's shows and hit it off. He's going to come with me when we come back to Tokyo after Parish fashion week is done." He flashed a devilish smirk. "You can make us that dinner you owe me. Don't worry, you can keep it simple – four or five dishes should be enough."

Haruhi started to protest and stopped, surprised to realize that she actually didn't mind. A part of her was already looking forward to the twins imposing themselves on her the way they used to. Her mouth opened and she gave a small, startled 'Oh!' Without her being aware of it, sometime over this past weekend she'd made her next decision. She turned the frown that had been forming into a smile. "Sure, that sounds like…"

' _Whmph.'_

An icy cold lump hit the back of her neck and began sliding down under the collar of her parka.

A second _'whmph,'_ later and she saw a chunk of snow nail Kaoru in the ear. "Oi!" The red-head whipped around furiously while Haruhi desperately tried to brush off the snow from her neck before more of it went down her back.

Hikaru and Daiki stood a few meters away with matching, playful twinkles in their eyes. Daiki covered his giggle with both hands while Hikaru nonchalantly tossed a snowball up and down in the air. "Whadda ya' say, Kao? Haruhi and me against you and the pipsqueak here. Loser buys the _oden._ "

"Hikaru, we can't," Haruhi griped, finally dusting off the last bits of snow, "This is a public park and it'll be troublesome for others." And she really didn't want to get hit.

"What's wrong, Haruhi?" the twins chorused in that eerie manner of theirs, "Afraid of a little snow?" Their eyes lit up with wicked glee as they stalked around her in a circle, snowballs threateningly in hand.

"Oh, please Mama!" Daiki tugged on her parka and gave his best puppy-dog look. "We haven't played snowball fight in such a long time…"

Her heart melted into a little puddle. Damn those eyes. Why couldn't he have inherited his father's hair and her eyes instead? "Fine. Maybe for a bit."

"Yaaay!" chimed all three children in unison. The twins high-fived each other with both hands and then held out their hands for Daiki to do the same.

Hikaru bent down, mounding a pile of snow into a makeshift fort for Haruhi to hide behind and directing her to form ammunition for him to throw. "Just keep feeding it to me, Haruhi. We'll take them down."

Kaoru knelt down and whispered emphatically in Daiki's ear. The child nodded and turned to face his opponents, standing shoulder-width apart and throwing his arms out wide. Kaoru huddled behind him and used the squealing tyke as a shield while aiming snowball after snowball direct at Haruhi.

"No fair, Kao!" Hikaru called out as he dove in front of his partner to intercept another strike. "How am I supposed to hit a kid?"

Kaoru only chortled mischievously and threw another missile, this time directly at his elder brother's head. After fifteen minutes, all participants were equally wet, exhausted, and shouting with laughter.

"Okay, okay – we concede." Hikaru stood up from his 'fort' and made a time-out gesture with his hands. "I think both our partners are getting tired," he wheezed, leaning forward to place his hands on his knees while he gasped in air. Beside him, Haruhi panted in the snow half from fatigue and half from giggling.

Kaoru grabbed Daiki by the hands and swung him around in a circle so his little feet lifted off the ground. "We are the champions! We are the champions!" They chanted in sync.

Hikaru reached a hand down and helped Haruhi to her feet. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her eyes shone bright with merriment, and her smile was as wide as her face. A rogue beam of sun must have hit the snow again because the air around her seemed to dazzle with twinkling lights.

"I'm glad," he said, surprising himself at the words which fell from his tongue.

"About what?" Haruhi asked, her nose wrinkling adorably in confusion.

"That I could make you laugh." He couldn't stop what he was sure was a stupid, goofy grin from appearing on his face or his mouth from opening up and saying, "You're really cute when you smile." He nearly kicked himself. Of all the stupid, love-struck teenager things to say…

Haruhi's cheeks went red and this time he was sure it was a blush. Huh. Maybe his brother had the right idea.

* * *

That evening, a trio of people stood on the tarmac waving goodbye as Honey, Mori, and the twins walked towards the private jet that would take them back to Tokyo. Standing between his mother and Kyoya, Daiki bounced up and down flapping both arms. The youngest looking host was doing the same and only Mori's hand fisted in his jacket so each hop drug him backward kept him moving towards the plane. They'd only left after lots of hugs, some tears, and extracting many, many promises to come visit soon from Haruhi.

The three stayed until the jet took off, watching until it vanished up beyond the clouds, before heading back towards the waiting limo. Daiki skipped ahead, running to go chatter something at Tachibana-the-nephew while his mother and Kyoya trailed behind.

"By the way, I'm leaving Sapporo tomorrow," Kyoya said, breaking the silence. "I need to evaluate some farming and processing operations in rural Hokkaido for the next two weeks."

Haruhi lifted an eyebrow at him. "I'm impressed."

He glanced at her with mild amusement. "That I'm so devoted to my family's business?"

"No." Her lips twitched with smothering her laugh. "That you managed to say the words 'rural Hokkaido' without shuddering."

Kyoya pushed his glasses up with his finger and gave her a sanctimonious glare. "Ootoris _are_ trained from a young age to make many sacrifices for the sake of the family."

She didn't even bother to hide her snort at the thought of the thoroughly cosmopolitan Kyoya mucking around in the countryside. The picture of him in his designer suit wearing a pair of Wellies and tromping around a half-thawed field almost had her convulsing. "I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think."

"That would be _quite_ easy to accomplish." His tone said that he would consider anything short of reenacting a scene from a hillbilly horror movie to be circumstances that would exceed his expectations. Haruhi stopped in her tracks, collapsing over in half with laughter and he glared at her, which only made her laugh more.

Kyoya held onto an irritated demeanor as long as he could before cracking and lifting the corner of his mouth in a small smile. It was so good to see her laugh again. To see her relaxed and happy. One short week had made such a huge difference in her. He could barely see any traces of the exhausted, scared, guarded woman he had tea with just days ago. Relief that he hadn't been too late to come for her flooded over him.

"Are you done?" he asked as she gulped in air and wiped tears of laughter away from her eyes. Her softly muttered 'sorry' didn't quite ring true but he didn't care. "When I return, I'd like to take you and Daiki-kun out to celebrate your birthdays. Maybe the Snow Festival?"

She sobered instantly. "You don't need to do that, you know."

"Take a friend out somewhere?"

"No. Subtly make sure I'll still be here if you leave for a couple weeks."

"I'm not. The thought hadn't crossed my mind. You said you would try to work things out with the Suohs and you aren't the type to go back on something once you've decided it."

Haruhi's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Oh. Sorry for the accusation. I'll be in the middle of exams, both my own and my students, but I'll make time. Dai-chan would like it."

The light from the setting sun filtered through the clouds, bathing her in a pinkish color that made her skin gleam like a pearl. He stared into her warm, chocolate brown eyes and couldn't help but ask hopefully, "Will you?"

"Of course." She replied genuinely and obliviously. "The sculptures are amazing."

Kyoya suppressed a sigh of resignation. It was too soon to expect her to understand what he was really asking. And there was still much more to do before he could be more straight-forward. Before he could pursue her openly. He turned and walked towards the limo with Haruhi accompanying alongside.

"I have a favor to ask before you go, Sempai."

"Hmm?" He murmured, masking his pleasure. This was the first time since they'd reunited that she'd asked him for something. It was progress - she was learning to rely on him.

"Could you put me in touch with a real estate agent in Tokyo? I know the housing market there is tricky and I don't have much time if I want to be settled in before school starts up. Not if I want to try and interview at those law firms and graduate university as well."

He couldn't fully hide the triumph bursting in his chest, so he turned it into a polite smile. "Can I ask what made you decide?"

"Lots of things. It's better career-wise to graduate from Toudai for one thing. Dai-chan can get to know his grandparents if we live near them and…" She stopped and he swung around to face her. The soft glow of happiness shining in her eyes launched his heart into a fast staccato. "I guess, seeing everyone just made me realize how much I'm missing out on, how much _we're_ missing out on, living up here by ourselves."

"I'm glad." For a brief moment he dropped his mask of indifference, allowing her to see just a hint of his sincerity. Just a glimpse of how he really felt. "I'm probably the only one who hasn't said it, but I miss having you around as well." She didn't respond, but her cheeks flushed slightly and he decided to count that as a win.

The air chilled fast as the sun descended so he shepherded her to the warm car waiting for them. "I'll have my secretary email you names of some of the agents we give our employees when they have to relocate. Pick whoever you are most comfortable with. I'll acquaint them with the budget Suoh-san has provided and you can let them know your requirements."

"I don't want anything big," she protested, lifting her hands as if trying to shove away the extravagance she clearly suspected was coming. "Just a simple little 2LDK apartment would be good. Maybe near a park?" Her voice trailed up hopefully, revealing far more about the hardship of her life here than he suspected she intended.

He composed his face into his usual impenetrable wall. "I'm sure something appropriate can be arranged," he murmured non-committaly. After all, there was really no point in provoking a battle he was only going to win in the end and, given the circumstances, he could be magnanimous in his victory.

It had taken him five long years, but she was coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I wrote this, I realized that I had unconsciously timed everything so that Haruhi's emotional journey mirrored the seasons things were set in. This is the end of the first arc, which is Winter where everything is buried and stagnant but not yet dead. Next up, stormy and unpredictable Spring where everything starts bursting into life.
> 
> Will continue posting all the chapters I have written soon. If you like, please R&R.


	11. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spring. The season of tumultuous weather, of new life forcing its way into being, of beginnings. But, mostly, the season of potential. The season of change. The 'spring' arc starts here:

"This. Is. A. House!" The petite brunette stood on the walkway before the offending abode and hurled the comment at the man standing next to her through clenched teeth.

Kyoya adjusted his glasses and had the audacity to smirk at her. The rich, duplicitous, bastard! "As always, Haruhi, your powers of observation are unparalleled," he drawled.

She glared back with all her might. "A house, Kyoya-sempai. Not a nice little two bedroom apartment. A. House!"

"You're welcome?" he offered with a lift of his eyebrow.

"You were in my apartment in Sapporo," she stated while struggling to keep her tone reasonable, "You know that the entirety of my earthly goods consist of a _kotatsu,_ two futons, a TV and stand, four boxes of personal belongings, and a _butsudan_. I need to pay for food and living expenses out of my salary. I don't have the money to decorate however many rooms are in…" She gestured inarticulately at the unprepossessing two-story building. "…THAT!"

A window on the top floor flew open and a tiny brown-haired head poked out. "Mama! Mama! Come look at my room! I have a bed and a desk and a TV and everything!"

"Did I mention it comes fully furnished?" Kyoya snarked. His face was the usual mask of cool politeness but now she was convinced the light in his eyes was amusement. "And it's four bedrooms plus a kitchen, living room, dining room, and family area."

Haruhi opened her mouth, words like 'controlling,' 'patronizing,' and 'insensitive' poised on her tongue ready to fly. Before she could let loose a single one the front door burst open and the twins walked out with arms piled high with fabric. Her eyes narrowed, was that her favorite sweater on top of the bundle Kaoru was carrying? And her brand new black skirt, the one she'd had to work an entire shift to pay for, underneath?

Just then Honey and Mori emerged from the side of the house after their inspection of the wall surrounding the property. Honey waved up at Daiki and cupped his hands up to his mouth. "Dai-chan, Takashi and I are hungry. Wanna go get some cake?"

Haruhi's breathing wheezed in and out of her nose, so loudly it echoed in her ears, and her fists clenched tightly until she felt her nails biting into her palms. Only Mori seemed to realize what was about to happen next. He took one look at her and gave Honey a gentle push that placed his cousin firmly behind him.

"I. HAVE. HAD. E. NOUGH!" Everyone froze in their spot. The legendary third demon of the Host Club had awoken.

Whirling on Honey, she glared at the former loli-shota quivering behind Mori. Crocodile tears shimmered in his eyes but she was past the point of caring. "Honey-sempai, cake is NOT an acceptable lunch for a child. They need a good meal with rice, protein, vegetables, and _maybe_ some fruit for dessert. You're going to be a father soon. Grow the fuck up!"

Mori's eyes were wide as dinner plates with shock and he ineffectually patted at Honey's shoulders as the smaller man whimpered behind him.

"Hey, wait, does that mean Reiko's pregnant?" Hikaru whispered to his brother. Both twins paled when they realized the comment had attracted the demon's attention.

"You two!" Haruhi pointed her finger straight at them. "What the hell do you think you are doing with my clothes?"

" _Ano_ … we're just… _ano_ …" Hikaru stammered.

Kaoru swallowed and boldly threw himself on the sword. "We thought the movers had mixed in some items you meant to throw out."

"Yeah… we were just trying to be… _ano…_ " Hikaru wilted under her continued glare. "…helpful?"

"Stop messing with other people's stuff! It may be rags to you but I worked hard to earn the money for those AND I actually LIKE them." She pressed her lips into a tight line and growled out, "Put. Them. Back."

"And you!" she exclaimed, whipping around to confront the man who had begun the chain reaction. "You just… just… Shut! Up! The minute you open your mouth you'll be telling me why this was the only option and I won't have any justification to be angry anymore. So right now you will just keep your damn mouth closed and let me be pissed!"

Haruhi's labored pants and thumping heartbeat sounded unnaturally loud in the silence that followed her tirade. Suddenly exhausted, she could only stand there staring at the ground and try to regain control of her temper.

The clang of the front gate jolted her and she swung around to see Reiko standing there with round, wide eyes and a slender hand pressed to her mouth. Slowly, Haruhi became aware of Honey sniffling softly and clutching Mori's shirt, Daiki half-hanging out the window and mouth gaping in a giant 'O', the twins clutching each other in fear, and Kyoya looking at her with his lips pressed together as if holding back a smile.

 _Kami!_ They'd done it to her again. She'd barely been back in Tokyo an hour and her life was already being thrown into chaos due to these aggravating, self-centered, and… and… Her shoulders relaxed and her irritation flew away. And utterly wonderful men. Men who'd taken a day off from work to come help her move. Men who were all taller and stronger than her yet were cowering in fright because they didn't like to make her upset. And the look on their faces... it was priceless! Her next breath came out as a strangled choke, then a cough, and a chortle, and finally a wheezing chuckle that had her doubled over.

"Haru-chan," Honey asked, tremulously moving out of Mori's shadow, "are… are you okay?"

She couldn't answer, just shake with silent mirth while clutching her stomach with one arm and flapped her other in an ineffectual signal that she was okay.

Honey turned wide, fearful eyes on the man next to her who was struggling to hold back his own laughter. "Kyo-chan… did we break her?"

With that, her giggles burst out of her lungs and turned into peals of laughter. When she was able to get a hold of herself, she straightened up. "I'm fine Honey-sempai." She wiped away tears from the corners of her eyes and looked around. Seven pairs of eyes stared back at her as if she'd grown a second head. "It's just… good to be home."

Predictably, that declaration was followed by a chorused "Awww…" and three pairs of arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders. A few seconds later a tiny body slammed into her and equally small arms wound around her knees. She bore the invasion of her personal space as long as she could before shaking them off.

She peered at her most innocent friend with regret and reached up to ruffle his blonde hair. "Honey-sempai, I'm sorry I revealed your secret."

He gave her anther impulsive hug and chirped, "It's alright, Haru-chan, we were going to announce it tonight anyway."

"You can take Dai-chan to lunch," she said and watched his eyes light up, "but only if you get him something healthy and no more than a _small_ piece of cake."

"Do not worry, Haruhi-chan," Reiko replied sonorously and glided up to stand next to her husband. "I will ensure that _both_ of the small ones eat plenty of vegetables and limit their indulgence."

Honey's face fell and his lower lip quivered. "Awww, Rei-chan…"

" _Anata_ , you must practice setting a good example," she admonished, lifting her hand to rub her abdomen lightly in reminder.

Honey grasped both her hands in his and pulled her in close. She tilted her head down and pressed her forehead against his in a familiar, intimate manner. "Would that make my Rei-chan happy?" he purred, lifting one of his hands to cup her cheek.

The black-haired woman blushed bright red and nodded shyly.

"Then I'll eat whatever you want me too." A slow smile spread across her husband's face, adding ten years to his apparent age. "It's my job to keep my little Okaa-chan happy, ne?" He dropped his hand from her face but continued to hold her hand in a firm grip. "C'mon Dai-chan, let's go eat. Afterwards maybe we can find a park!"

Daiki gave a cheer and ran up to grab Honey's other hand. "Don't worry, Haru-chan," Honey called as the three of them plus Mori headed out the front gate, "We'll be back in time for tonight."

Haruhi waved them off and turned to deal with the twins next. They were trying to surreptitiously pick up the clothes they'd dropped on the ground after running to hug her earlier. Something niggled at the back of her brain but she couldn't quite put her finger on the source of unease so she set it aside. "Hikaru, Kaoru – put my stuff back where you found it. And clean them off!"

She almost laughed again at the mix of disappointment and disgust on their faces as they headed back towards the door, feet dragging behind them and she called out after them, "But, if you can behave I'll let you help me pick out some clothes to wear for my internship."

Their faces sparkled like two little kids on Christmas day and Kaoru shoved his bundle into Hikaru's arms and leapt to embrace her. "Really? And you won't complain?"

"No promises!" She wiggled out of his grasp. "Nothing weird! And I'm paying for it so we need to stay within my budget."

"I'll take it!" He ran back and pulled some items from his brother's overburdened arms, calling out over his shoulder, "Even on a commoner's budget I can make you the best-dressed intern in the company." The twins disappeared back into the house, heads together and whispering frantically. As the door swung shut behind them she heard words like 'sheath,' 'A-line,' and 'crepe' being passed between them and she shivered.

Distractions cleared, she crossed her arms and fixed the real source of her irritation with a withering glare. The controlling, patronizing, insensitive, rich bastard just lifted one eyebrow at her in response. His eyes glittered behind his glasses with bemusement and her palms itched to slap that look off his face. Instead, she took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing both it and the remaining tension in her shoulders. "Okay, Sempai, go ahead and tell me why I can't be upset about this."

The incongruously labeled 'cool' host's shoulders shook slightly with a repressed chuckle, but he didn't let a hint of condescension color his tone, "I did consider your requirements, but believed this would suit your needs better." His amusement faded and he gave a small, almost apologetic smile. "I don't know if you've fully grasped your position now, Haruhi. For the next few days you can luxuriate in your anonymity but school begins Wednesday and by the following week certain sectors of Tokyo society will be buzzing with the news that Daiki-kun is the only grandson of one of the richest men in Japan. Not all of these sectors will react to the news in a civilized manner."

Haruhi's eyes widened as she quickly grasped the implications behind his words. "This is about security."

"An apartment like the one you grew up in, with an external facing entry, is simply too vulnerable to intruders." With one finger he pushed his glasses and tilted his head towards the light from the sky up to shield his eyes, a trick she'd long ago learnt meant he was trying to veil some emotion he'd never admit to. Usually it was anger, but she didn't sense any of that now. "I know it isn't what you wanted, but your and Daiki-kun's safety is simply not something I am willing to put at risk."

"I can understand that, but there are plenty of different types of apartment buildings in Tokyo."

He tilted his head forward and she once again saw grey eyes that appeared to contain nothing but cool assessment. "The only acceptable ones would be those with secured, fully-manned entries - sky rises in busy areas where your neighbors would be trust-fund children and childless couples. And due to the crowds, every time you went outside you'd be exposed, which would mean bodyguards." He turned his head away from her and said quietly, "I grew up surrounded by guards. I didn't think it was something you would wish for. Not with you being used to more freedom and independence."

She could already feel her attitude softening, turning to sympathy as he reminded her of his restrictive upbringing. The realization irritated her. For someone who never seemed to have any emotions he certainly knew how to manipulate hers.

"Under the circumstances, I thought you would prefer something like this." He swept his arm in a half-circle encompassing both the house and the neighborhood. "This neighborhood is mostly single homes for upper-class families, many of whom send their children to Ouran or similar private schools. Here, you can almost live what you'd consider a normal life. There are parks, grocery stores, locally owned restaurants and shops, and an extremely well-trained private police force who keeps a watchful eye on both people and property."

"Private police force?" Haruhi couldn't control her skepticism at how convenient that arrangement was. "It wouldn't happen to have any connection to the Black Onion Squad would it?"

"There may be some ties between the two. My father has assured me that there is absolutely no relation between that and the fact that Fuyumi lives in this neighborhood. " Kyoya's eyes twinkled almost merrily as if inviting her to share a secret joke. "She's only a couple blocks away from here and her eldest son, Takeru-kun, turned five this past September. He and Daiki-kun will both be in Kindergarten class A."

Pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, Haruhi let her breath out in a huff. As predicted, his reasoning made it impossible to hold onto her anger. _Kami_ , that was infuriating. "I can understand the choice of neighborhood, Sempai, but really – four bedrooms? I don't need that much space."

"Two for you and Daiki-kun, one you could use as either a guest room or additional play space, and the downstairs one would make a perfect study room. I understand study groups can be a key to success in law school. Meeting at your home would be more convenient for you than at a library late at night."

Of course he had an answer for everything. Always covering all the angles - the closest 'safe' approximation he could find to her middle-class upbringing, a ready-made friend for Daiki in the complicated halls of Ouran, and the ability to spend as much time at home as possible. Haruhi took a mental step back and surveyed her new home with fresh eyes. The exterior wasn't fancy or elaborate, in truth it resembled a typical suburban home you could find anywhere in Japan. Only the location, barely thirty minutes from the hustle and bustle of Shibuya made it anything out of the ordinary.

Well, that and the over six-foot high fence with iron spikes and cameras mounted on the walls.

If you remembered this was the heart of Tokyo then the women pushing designer strollers through the tree-lined streets and the complete lack of skyscrapers or buildings with tiny apartments would also signal that there was something different about this place. But, to be fair, if she needed to live somewhere that was secure for Daiki's sake then she could have done worse.

"Damn it." She shook her head ruefully. "I knew you'd talk your way out of it."

Kyoya started to smile – more of a gloat really, but she held up her hand to stop whatever he would say. "But, I _am_ angry that you decided this on your own. Do you think I'm stupid? Or a child?" Her voice this time was laced with something deeper than the fury she'd let explode earlier and Kyoya's body flinched with each question she hurled at him. "Do you believe I'm irrational? Or someone lacking in common sense? Do you really think for one minute that I wouldn't put my son's safety before my own preferences? This is _my_ child, Kyoya-sempai, _my_ life. _I_ am the one who gets to make these decisions."

He blinked rapidly, processing the transformation she'd undergone. Haruhi's typical anger at the Host Club's antics was cute. Almost endearing, really, like watching a small, furry animal scold a group of larger predators. It was why they all enjoyed winding her up so much. Haruhi enraged? That was something else entirely and he felt his heart plummet. He'd crossed a line with her, one he wasn't aware was there. One he had to step back from and set his own boundary around if he ever hoped for her to fully trust him. To care for him.

"You're right," he admitted. He nearly ruined the apology by laughing at her stunned expression. He knew, even if few others did, just how many mistakes he made. But both of them were aware of just how rare it was for him to admit it.

Haruhi could feel her mouth gaping open like a fish as Kyoya bowed his head – stiffly and somewhat awkwardly, but lower than she'd ever seen him do outside of a former greeting. "I'm sorry," he continued. She strained to find any hit of mocking but found nothing but sincerity. "Not consulting you about this was inconsiderate of me and demeaning towards you." He raised unguarded grey eyes to hers, ensnaring her with the brief glimpse of genuine regret. "You can be stubborn and are often heedless of your own safety, but I should have trusted more in your mother's instinct."

Haruhi felt herself reel, slightly dizzy with a sense of disorientation. Kyoya had always been so reserved but she had thought she understood him. Or at least understood him better than most people. She thought she had successfully peered beneath his façade but all it took was a simple apology, a hint of vulnerability, and her certainty was overturned. The man before her had depths and sides to him she doubted anyone had ever seen and it forced her to look at him as if he were a stranger.

"Don't… don't do it again," she stammered.

"I won't." Kyoya snapped back upright and he was once again the person she expected him to be. Nothing in his demeanor suggested that flash of something else, something different, had ever existed. "I never make the same mistake twice."

"I didn't think you made any. Or at least I never thought I'd see the day you admitted it," she teased, trying to lighten the strange mood that had come over her. She couldn't help the disquieting feeling that all along he'd been hiding pieces of himself from everyone. From her.

"People change," he replied in a light, playful tone to match hers. "I never thought I'd see the day you'd agree to let the twins take you shopping."

"Ah… for that you can blame my favorite professor at university. She was amazing – became a lawyer back in the eighties when there were almost no female attorneys." Haruhi threw herself into telling the story in order to overcome her lingering sense of something having changed between them. "Every semester she'd invite all the female law and pre-law students to her house for a get together where she'd mentor us on the things they don't teach you. Her favorite lecture was on the importance of appearance, especially for a woman. She'd say 'you need to look pretty and feminine so the jury will like you, neat and stylish so the judges and partners will respect you, and rich and successful so the clients will trust you.'"

"Pretty, stylish, and rich." Kyoya looked down at her, soaking in the way her eyes sparked with energy. The light spring breeze played with a piece of her hair and his fingers itched to catch it and tuck it back behind her ear. "You're already the first and I can't think of anyone better than the twins to find clothes that suit the second two criteria." His heart warmed at the faint blush that appeared on her cheeks from his compliment. As cute as she was when angry, she was even more appealing when flustered. Involuntarily, his hand began to rise to capture that bewitching lock dancing in the wind.

An upstairs window swished open, halting his movement, and a voice shouted down, "Haruhi, do you honestly like this sweater? Because it is hideous."

Without turning around, Haruhi answered, "Put it back, Kaoru. Every last piece." Over the top of her head, Kyoya locked eyes with a grinning Kaoru. Both of them knew the interruption was intentional. He narrowed his eyes menacingly, but Kaoru's smile only grew wider. With a mental sigh, he made a note to keep a closer watch on them. If the twins were being this aggressive, then Hikaru must have already committed himself to the chase.

"What about the skirt?" Kaoru called, unfazed by her irritation.

Haruhi turned around to see him holding up her new interview skirt. "What's wrong with the skirt? It's from some name brand label and everything!"

"It's at least ten years out of fashion – which is really hard to do considering it's your basic pencil skirt. I swear, only you could manage to mess up in selecting a classic wardrobe staple."

She gritted her teeth and growled, "Back. Everything goes back."

"Fine." Kaoru rolled his eyes and thudded the window shut. Before it closed, Haruhi heard him mutter, "Maybe I can convince Dai-kun to spill something on it."

She glanced at Kyoya out of the corner of her eyes and let out a snort. "I am so going to regret this, aren't I?"

"You have only yourself to blame," Kyoya responded with a small smile that took the sting out of his words and invited her to share in his amusement. Such a simple gesture, but it softened his face and gave an impression of gentleness to his eyes. "But I have every confidence the results will be stunning."

Haruhi's throat felt weirdly dry and she gulped. She'd never noticed how the color grey could be so changeable - switching from icy steel to warm pewter with just a smile. Her pulse beat a nervous tattoo against the hollow of her neck, surely a legacy from her earlier outburst, and she turned away and pretended to study the house while tamping down on the disconcerting feelings roiling like an undercurrent in her breast.

Kyoya's voice interjected itself into her thoughts. "While you are selecting a work wardrobe, might I suggest you allow them to pick out a cocktail dress for you as well?"

The cool, dry tone of his voice soothed her agitation, which only increased again when she realized it'd had that effect. She shoved the thought aside, choosing not to look to deeply into the reason behind it. Curious about his suggestion, she glanced back at him in silent inquiry.

"My mother is hosting a charity fundraiser next Friday," he elaborated.

Her brows knit together, wondering what one thing had to do with the other.

"I see I'm being too indirect again." Kyoya's smirk came back full force and annoyance drove any lingering troublesome thoughts and feelings far away from her. "These events can be tedious, but my presence is expected. I'd appreciate knowing that there will be at least one person there whose conversation won't bore me to tears. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me?"

She hesitated. A society fundraiser was not high on her list of things she'd enjoy, but Kyoya had done a great deal for her lately. She looked over at the house and then back to him. A simple favor like this was probably the least she owed him.

As if catching her reluctance, he pressed harder. "I'm sure your mentor must have mentioned the importance of networking. In business, who you know is almost as important as hard work and competence. There will be many people attending who you will want to have a good relationship with - both as a lawyer and as Daiki-kun's mother." His lips twitched slightly. "Also, my mother always lays in excellent food."

"Do you really think I'm that easy to bribe?" she snorted. In truth, her mouth was already watering. "I'd be happy to go with you, Kyoya-sempai."

He put on the charming face she'd come to think of as his 'host' persona. "I'll pick you up at seven." She nodded out of habit, too confused by the thought that she liked his smaller, more sincere smiles better than the one he had on now. What did it matter how he smiled?

Covering her befuddlement, she began walking towards the front door. "If I'm going to live here, I should probably see what it's like." As she reached the threshold, the uneasiness that had been bothering her since Honey and Mori's departure crystalized into a thought and pushed itself to the forefront of her mind. She turned back, confusion written in the lines on her brows. "Wait a second, what did Honey-sempai mean about making sure Dai-chan got home 'in time' for tonight?"

"Didn't I mention it? Everyone wanted to throw you a housewarming party. Don't worry," he assured her as her fists once again clenched into tight little balls. "I've already arranged for caterers, decorators, and a cleaning staff." His polite smile grew wider and his eyes crinkled shut, giving him the illusion of an _oni_ from a children's story. "I'm sure I can arrange for you to pay me back somehow."

Damn it, she should have stayed in Hokkaido.


	12. Friends

Daiki flew to the front door, reaching it before the sounds of the doorbell had finished echoing off the hallway. Throwing it wide open, his bubbly 'Welcome' tripped over the heels of the guests 'Good Evening.'

Haruhi came up behind him, tugged him away from the entry and invited the visitors in to what was now, apparently, her house. A house where each room was bigger than anywhere she'd ever lived – even the bathrooms! She couldn't help her lips pressing together into a thin line and glower at the man on her doorstep nearly an hour early. Just because she liked the house, didn't mean she she had fully forgiven him for the way it had been forced upon her.

As soon as she saw the woman standing next to him she realized this wasn't going to be just an ex-Host Club get together. Good thing she'd kicked Kyoya and the twins out from underfoot the minute her belongings had been unloaded so she had time to prepare for the party - another thing that had been forced on her. Honey and Mori had agreed to keep Daiki with them for a couple hours, which gave her enough time to find a supermarket and purchase some needed staples and do some quick cleaning to make sure the place was spotless.

After picking her son up at the playground, they raced home to change - her into a light blue sundress spotted with buttercups (only one hundred yen at the thrift store) and a matching yellow cardigan and Daiki into a pair of jeans with over-sized pockets in a striped denim and a fuchsia-and-navy striped buttoned sweater-jacket over his favorite Anpanman t-shirt, all but the last provided by Mei. Haruhi had just finished pinning her bangs back from her face with the barrettes Daiki had given her for her birthday when the bell rang.

"Haruhi!" Exclaimed the older woman at the door as she pulled the younger into a floral-scented embrace. "It's so lovely that you've moved back to Tokyo!"

"Shido-san." Haruhi bowed when Kyoya's sister finally released her. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Oh, no. I won't have any of that." The woman shook her head in admonishment. "You must call me Fuyumi. I have a feeling you and I are going to become quite close." She slanted a look at the man standing next to her. "Don't you agree Kyoya?"

He donned the polite expression that had charmed countless school girls. "Of course. You're neighbors and I suspect your children will be classmates for years to come. Undoubtedly you will become good friends."

Fuyumi gave her brother a disappointed look, although Haruhi couldn't see what was wrong with his answer. She had known Fuyumi more through the woman's friendship with Tamaki than through Kyoya. Now, with both children attending Ouran, she expected to get to know her more through their sons.

When the two stepped into the hallway, Haruhi could see a tiny dark head poking out from behind Fuyumi's skirt. Catching the direction of her gaze, Fuyumi reached behind her and gently pulled a young boy out in front of her, placing her hands on both his shoulders. Although he looked to be Daiki's age, he was as different from the other boy as night from day. The child's midnight black hair was gelled flat against his head and parted on the side in a haircut that wouldn't look out of place on a salary man. His clothes matched his hair – dress pants, white button-up shirt, and navy vest with the logo of what was probably a very expensive brand on the left breast. Grey eyes peered at her solemnly through round, wire-rim frames.

" _Hajimemashite_ , I am Shido Takeru, _yoroshiku onegashimasu_." The child's bow and formal introduction were impeccably precise and only underlined his air of reserve.

He'd barely finished when Daiki bounded up to him like an eager puppy. "Hi Ru-chan, I'm Daiki." He grabbed the other boys hand. "Let's go play in my room!"

Takeru eyes widened and he stammered what might have been a protest, but before he could get any words out, Daiki had scampered half-way up the stairs, tugging the other boy behind him like a kite.

"Dai…" Haruhi called out in admonishment, only to be cut off by the slam of a door. She stopped and covered her forehead with her hand, shaking her head ruefully while Fuyumi dissolved into giggles. "Oh, forget it. I apologize for my son, Fuyumi-san."

The other woman was laughing too hard to do more than wave the apology away. When she stopped, she placed her hand over her heart and looked wistfully up the stairs. "Oh! It's almost like seeing history repeat itself, isn't it Kyoya?"

"Not at all," he replied but the smile tugging up his lips undermined his words. "Takeru-kun is a far nicer child than I was at that age and Daiki-kun not nearly as idiotic as his father." The look he gave his sister was the gentlest expression Haruhi had ever seen on his face. "I believe they will get along quite well together."

Fuyumi blinked rapidly, her eyes glistened with moisture. "Oh, I do hope so!" She shook her head lightly and placed her French-manicured hand on Haruhi's arm. "Please forgive me. It's just that Takeru-kun is such a shy child, nothing at all like his older sister. He still hasn't made any friends after two years of preschool."

Haruhi cast her eyes towards the ceiling. "Dai-chan can be a bit… energetic. I hope he's won't be too troublesome for Takeru-kun."

"Trust me, Haruhi, it will be fine," replied Kyoya.

"I suppose you're right, Kyoya-sempai." She pulled her eyes away from the ceiling and back to the adults. "May I take your coats?"

Fuyumi handed the jacket she held in her hands over and Kyoya slipped off his short, light gray, belted trench coat, revealing a pair of slim fitting black jeans and a slub cotton, dark blue, v-neck sweater. A white t-shirt under the sweater, precisely cut so the edges poking out at collar and hem were exactly even, made an otherwise casual look seem just a bit more formal.

Turning to hang up their coats in the hall closet, Haruhi realized that this was the first time since they'd reunited that she'd seen him in anything but a suit. Even when she and Daiki showed him around the Snow Festival he had just come from a business meeting. The outfit looked good on him, made him seem more approachable and relaxed. Her brow furrowed and she shook her head, what did it matter what he wore?

Sliding the closet door closed, she found they had finished removing their shoes and donning one of the many pairs of slippers that had come with the house. "Kyoya-sempai, Fuyumi-san please come into the living room. I'll get you something to drink."

"Don't trouble yourself," replied Kyoya, "we are imposing on you early. The caterers will arrive any minute and I came to oversee the arrangements." Right as he finished the doorbell rang again. "That should be them now."

He opened the door proprietarily before Haruhi could reach it. A man and two women in black pants and crisp white shirts stood on the doorstep. Their leader, a petite, brown-haired woman with her hair pulled off her face and fastened at the back of her head with a silver barrette, stepped forward and bowed a greeting.

"Fujioka-sama, thank you for allowing us to serve at your party." Raising back up, she gave a warm smile. "I don't know if you remember me, but I attended Ouran for a little while."

It didn't take long for Haruhi to place her. Although their acquaintance had been brief it had been momentous. "Of course I remember you, Kanoya-sempai. Does this mean you've moved back to Tokyo from Kobe?"

The woman responded with a shy smile. "Several years ago. My father's chef-entertainer dream needed a more metropolitan city in which to flourish. He has a small restaurant now in Shibuya _._ "

"Small, but quite popular," Kyoya interjected. "Both for the entertaining and the innovative cuisine."

Kanoya waived away his words. "Really, my father is so strange I don't know how we survive. I'm sure the novelty of his antics will wear off soon."

"Megumi-chan is looking to expand their business into the private catering market," Kyoya explained, "Since this is a private gathering of friends, it seemed the perfect venue to test run the logistics of the operation."

"The orienteering contest opened my eyes to a brand new approach to food. Since then, it's been my dream to fuse traditional Japanese food with unusual cuisines and ingredients." Kanoya Megumi bowed again, this time to the bespectacled ex-host. "Thank you, Ootori-san, for giving me this opportunity." He briefly acknowledged her gratitude with a polite murmur and began discussing the best way for the team to bring in their equipment.

"Is this another one of your investments, Kyoya-sempai?" Haruhi asked after the trio returned to their van to begin unpacking supplies.

"A modest one. Kanoya-san's restaurant has a strong following among the younger, trendier set and I expect the addition of catering to their business model to provide a good return on investment."

She didn't believe him for a minute. No doubt Megumi's business _would_ end up being successful – he would make sure of that, but he wasn't doing this only for profit and she let him know she knew it with her smile.

"Let's leave Kyoya to sort all this out." Fuyumi linked her arm through the younger woman's and drew her towards the living room. "I am going to give you a primer on how to survive being the parent of an Ouran student."

"Is it really that bad?" Haruhi asked anxiously.

Fuyumi chuckled darkly. "It's everything you would expect when you take a bunch of educated, intelligent, ambitious women and give them no objective beyond overseeing the achievements of their children."

Haruhi's shivered and she felt a drop of sweat bead against her forehead. What the hell had she agreed to when she'd moved back?

* * *

A chorused 'Konnichiwa!' from the entryway reached Haruhi's ears as she talked with Kyoya and Fuyumi in the living room. One of the serving staff was temporarily acting as butler while Kanoya and the female server circled the living room with trays of drinks and appetizers. She excused herself and headed towards the hallway to greet her first real guests of the evening.

Before she reached the open doorway between the two rooms, Honey bounded inside, pulling Reiko along with him. "Haru-chan, your house is cute!" He gave her a quick hug. "I didn't get to see the inside earlier."

"Thank you, Honey-sempai, but I can't take any credit for it." The last was more the muttered remains of resentment than a polite refusal of a compliment.

"Chika-chan and Satoshi-chan said to say welcome home and they're sorry they couldn't make it. They're at their respective spring training camps for the national Karate and Judo teams."

"I thought I read something about that in the newspaper last month. Aren't they both top picks for Japan's Olympic team?"

Honey beamed with pride in his younger brother and cousin. "The competition for the top spots is tough, but if they keep up with their training they might have a chance."

"Tell them that I will be cheering them on."

"I will," he replied, skipping away to greet Kyoya and Fuyumi. Reiko exchanged a silent bow of greeting to her hostess and followed.

Mori entered next, more sedately than his cousin. His hand was clinging to that of a tiny woman almost half his size and dressed in a pink and white dress with more ruffles than Haruhi thought possible to put on one garment. "Haruhi, this is my fiancée Tanuma Hana."

Before she could begin to introduce herself, Hana surged forward and clasped Haruhi's hands with her own. "Kawaiiiiiii! I'm can't believe I finally get to meet you! Taka-chan and Mitskuni-kun talk about you all the time!"

"It's… nice to meet you too, Tanuma-san." Haruhi managed to get out, reeling back from the sudden assault of femininity. One part of her mind couldn't help but notice that Hana, with her bobbed black hair and smiling eyes, looked exactly like a girl's day doll.

"They are always talking about the adventures the seven of you had. Is it true you once almost died facing down ten men who wanted to assault your classmates?" Hana's excited eyes begged for a positive response.

Haruhi riffled through her memory, finally matching Hana's over exaggerated description with the events in Okinawa her first year. "Ano… it was three boys and I only got a little wet…"

"Kyaaaa! That was soooo brave of you!" Hana brought their clasped hands up to her chest, eyes shining bright. "I just know we are going to be the greatest of friends! Oh! I just had a wonderful idea!" If anything her eyes seemed to grow wider and Haruhi found herself tensing in nervous anticipation at what the girl would say next. "You should be one of my bridesmaids! I still need someone to pair with Kyoya-kun and you'd be perfect!"

As hard as she tried, Haruhi just couldn't think of a polite way to refuse. "That sounds nice, Tanuma-san," she replied without conviction.

"Oh! I'm so happy! Now you simply have to call me Hana!" Lowering her voice to a whisper Hana confided, "All my friends are too intimidated by Kyoya-kun to accept. I don't know why - he is just the sweetest man!" Mori's bubbly future bride pulled Haruhi into a hug. "We will have so much fun! There'll be parties, and teas, and trips to the spa - and the dresses I've picked out are soooo kawaii!"

Letting go of Haruhi as suddenly as she'd grabbed her, Hana twirled away in a flurry of pink and lace. "I have to go tell Reiko-chan all about it – she's my maid of honor! Our first spa day is next week, Haru-chan, I'll email you all about it!" With that she danced off into the room to talk to Reiko.

Haruhi looked up at the man who'd stood by silently the whole time. "She seems very… sweet, Mori-sempai. I'm sure you'll be very happy together."

Mori responded with a small smile that matched the hint of happiness in his onyx eyes. Hands in his pockets, he sauntered after his bride with a just the slightest hint of pink still on his cheeks.

Haruhi turned back to face the room and watched the stoic man join the boundlessly energetic girl. "Wow," Haruhi muttered to herself, still not quite sure what to think.

"I know, right?" An armed draped around her shoulders as Hikaru came up behind her on her right side. She hadn't even heard the doorbell over Hana's non-step exclamations. "Every time I talk with her I feel like I just got mugged by a Japanese Snow White. The weird thing is that she really is every bit as sweet and nice as she acts. I'm not sure she has a mean bone in her body."

Another arm snaked around her waist as Kaoru took his place on her left. "Well, Mori always did have a fetish for 'cute and small' things. What's really scary is that she's also a five-time national champion in Akido. Hope you don't have any plans to go after Mori, she'll kick your ass."

Hikaru tilted his head back and gave a pointed look at the piece of anatomy in question. He gave Haruhi a wink and a Cheshire cat grin. "That would be a shame. It's such a nice one too."

She punched him in the side and he made a mock grunt of pain.

"Kaoru, _amore mio_ ," said a rich baritone from the doorway that caressed her ears like syrup, "The person you hug, I need be jealous?"

The twins somehow turned both her and themselves around so they were facing the living room entry without dislodging her from their conjoined embrace. "Haruhi," Kaoru said his face lit up with pride, "meet Stefan."

In person, Stefan was taller and wider than his photo had made him appear – roughly a match for Mori. He was also more devastatingly handsome. Even in a room filled with former host club members he was not outclassed. Stefan pulled her to him in a bear hug that pinned both her hands to her side then kissed her boisterously on both her cheeks.

" _Incantato, bella ragazza."_ Pulling away, he gripped her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her head from one side to another, assessing her critically. "Oh! Yes, I see! You would be beautiful boy."

"She was and I have the pictures to prove it," replied a new voice from the hallway.

Stefan stepped away to the side, and Haruhi looked back and forth confusedly between the two women standing in the doorway before recognition set in. "Renge? I almost didn't recognize you."

Renge patted at her short pixie-style hair. "Had to get it cut so it was easier to maintain." She huffed out a sigh. "Work is just too busy for long hair."

"Only because you delay everything to the last minute, Renge-sensei." Her black-haired companion said, adjusting her glasses with a sniff.

"Yeah, yeah. But I always hit my deadlines." Renge waived dismissively at the other woman. "This is my assistant, Aiko. She blackmailed me into letting her come."

"Renge-sensei promised that if I finished all the inking by this afternoon I could meet the models for _The Last_ _Flowers of Summer._ _"_ Aiko's eyes gleamed with an intensity Haruhi recognized all too well. Unconsciously, all three of the former hosts took a step back and clutched each other in fear.

Renge's assistant swept her hand out to the side in a declaratory pose. "A sweeping saga set in the warring states period about the stoic, honorable Murai Taysuke and his pure, devotion towards his young master, Harada Mitsugo."

She clapped her hands together and clutched them dramatically to her breast. "Orphaned at a young age by cruel fate, Harada-dono and his loyal vassal struggle to survive in a world beset by dangers and enemies on all sides." Dropping her hands, Aiko pushed her glasses up with one finger. "Pure shounen-ai, no explicit yaoi." She put one hand out flat, palm facing downwards and wiggled it back and forth. "Border line shotacon."

Haruhi cupped a hand and whispered to Hikaru behind it. "Her characters are based on Honey-sempai and Mori-sempai, right? Do they know?"

"Yeah," he whispered back. "They hate it but they've been overruled. Reiko and Hana think it's totally ' _moe_.'"

"The anime's premiering this summer," said Renge, "You'll receive your invitations to the VIP launch party with the voice actors soon."

"This is what you call ' _otaku_ ,' yes?" Stefan asked the redhead next to him.

Kaoru shook his head. "No, sweetie. They're what we call ' _fujoshi_.'"

Stefan looked befuddled and Kaoru whispered in his ear an explanation. The Italian's eyes grew wide and he threw back his head to laugh.

The sound attracted Renge's attention and she pushed Haruhi aside and stepped towards the foreign giant. Crossing her arms, she looked him over with a calculating purse of her lips. "You," she declared, "are perfect!"

Kaoru's brow beaded in sweat and he pushed the larger man aside, stepping in front of him with arms spread wide. "Renge, back away from my boyfriend!"

She ignored him and held up her phone. "If you're interested, Stefan-san, I have both pictures of Haruhi dressed as a boy AND the entire 'brotherly love' collection - including special commissions no one has but me." She made a few quick taps and held up a picture of Kaoru and Hikaru dressed in their Ouran uniforms with hands clasped and cheeks pressed together against a background of roses.

"High school? These photos from high school? Kaoru say he not have any…" Stefan's eyes widened and he reached a hand for the phone only to be stopped by Kaoru.

"No, Stefan, don't give in! Don't let her ensnare you in her evil plans!"

"Both high school and the first year of college!" Renge declared. "It can all be yours," she sang coaxingly, wiggling her phone back and forth temptingly.

"I won't let you corrupt him, Renge." Darting at light speed, Kaoru snatched the phone from her hands and tossed it to his brother

HIkaru caught it and jumped away from the three women. Renge lunged after him and, with a lightning fast move, he tossed it back to Kaoru. The twins leapt over furniture in their dash around the living room, tossing the phone back and forth between them whenever Aiko or Renge got too close.

"Guys! Knock it off," shouted Haruhi, "This place is rented!"

Kyoya left his conversation with the 'nozuka cousins and sidled up next to her. "If those idiots break anything," he said loudly and gave them a menacing glare, "I'll be sure to make them reimburse you."

The two froze at the Shadow King's proclamation, the phone gliding through the air between them. In a move too fast for Haruhi's eyes to see, Stefan leapt up and dove across the room, caught the phone in mid-air, and flipped over to land on his back on the sofa with it cradled between his hands.

"You forget, Kaoru, I goalie in high school. National champion." He swiped at the images on the phone, eyes lighting up more and more until they glowed as brightly as those of all those fangirls who'd once surrounded the twins. He looked up at his boyfriend. "Kao-ru…" he sang pleadingly.

"Nooooo…." Kaoru whined. "But... but... you don't understand what she's capable of!"

Stefan widened his eyes until they looked half the size of his head and clasped his hand together. "But my Kaoru so adorable... Please, _gattino,_ I want!"

"Oh God! Not the chibi eyes! You know I can't resist those!" With a look of disgust, he turned around and faced Renge. "Fuck! You win, demon woman. What do you want for them?"

Triumphantly, she retrieved her phone and held it up with the camera lens pointing towards the two of them. "Nothing much, I just need some model pictures of you two for my new one volume - tentatively titled _Stolen Love._ _"_

Aiko swept her hands out, palms facing forward, as if displaying an invisible banner. "A thrilling tale of the heated passion between a brilliant, half-Japanese _seme_ police officer and the wily _uke_ thief he partners with to take down an international crime cartel who, in a shocking twist, is headed by the thief's father." Dropping her hands to her side she reverted instantly back to her severe persona. "Yaoi with heavy smut and hints of non-con."

Kaoru shuddered and looked back at the man on the sofa. Stefan's lower lip was still quivering. "You want the pictures that bad?" At Stefan's eager nod Kaoru pressed his lips together in a sharp line. "Fine, we'll do it. Send me an email to arrange the time."

" _Grazie, tesoro mio, grazie."_ Stefan reached out and encircled the smaller man around the waist, pulling Kaoru to him and burying his face against the younger man's stomach. Kaoru tangled his hand in his lover's hair and gave it a tender caress. With a smirk he looked back at Renge and drawled, "Only one problem. What makes you think _I'm_ the _uke_ in this relationship?"

Both women's eyes widened. "Aiko-san, focus group it!" barked Renge, "The police officer as the _uke_. I'm thinking _kohai_ -wooing-a-reluctant- _sempai_ trope."

Aiko's hands flew over her smartphone. "Message boarded it already, Renge-sensei. The 20-to-35 demographic is going wild over the idea."

"Yes! It will be another hit!" Renge pumped her fist in the air.

Stefan looked up at the redhead he was holding. "I not understand these words, what is this ' _uke_?' And ' _seme_?'"

A pained look crossed Kaoru's face. "I'll… I'll tell you later, love."

"More like show you," Hikaru snarked in a low voice. Haruhi looked up in surprise to find he had come to stand at her other side during Kaoru and Renge's exchange.

"I don't really understand, either." said Haruhi, completely bewildered by much of what had happened over the last few minutes.

Hikaru smiled and leaned closer, brushing his lips against her ear. "Well, I could demonstrate the ' _seme_ ' part for you if you really want to know."

Something cold and sloppy hit the side of his face with a wet thud and he recoiled away from the girl whose brow was still wrinkled in confusion. A shrimp-and-chorizo dumpling in plum salsa slid slowly down his cheek. He flicked it away with his finger and glared at the man standing with a plate of appetizers in his hand on the other side of Haruhi.

"Sorry," Kyoya said coolly and without a hint of remorse, "It must have slipped off my fork."

* * *

The housewarming had been in full swing for about thirty minutes when one of the servers came up and discreetly informed Haruhi that there were some people at the door who'd requested to see her. Curious as to who wouldn't just come inside, she excused herself from her conversation with Hana and Reiko and went out to meet them.

Her heart jumped at the site of the man and woman standing just outside her front door with matching scowling expressions. "Mei-chan! Ritsu-kun!" She raced down the steps to stand next to them. "I didn't know you'd be coming."

"Yeah, I'm surprised that glasses-wearing bastard actually remembered to invite us," replied Mei with a snarl. The former gyaru's skin was paler now, but her hair was still an unnaturally light shade which bordered on blonde. The sleeveless leopard print top layered over a black ruffled skirt and thigh-high black stockings showed her fashion sense was unchanged as well.

The tall redheaded man next to her was a different story. His eyes were still scary, but his once long hair had been cut short on the sides and the rest pulled back into a small top-knot. Mei's influence was evident in his royal blue suit over white shirt with the top three buttons undone and a gold chain visible beneath. Like the hosts, he too was taller, his frame more muscled, and he radiated with the subtle aura of a man who knows his place in the world is at the top.

Looking at him standing there, scuffing at the ground with his shoe and not meeting her eyes, Haruhi felt a sharp wave of affection overwhelm her. Although displays of physical affection were something she mostly received instead of gave, there was only one way she could think of to demonstrate her gratitude for all he'd done. "Mei-chan," she asked, "is it okay if I hug your husband?"

"Go ahead, he's dying to do the same anyway," replied Mei and bared her teeth in what might be interpreted as a smile.

Haruhi reached out and pulled the most feared yakuza head in Japan into a hug which he returned with bone-crushing strength. Releasing him, she stepped back and smiled up at him. "I know I said this all the time, but thank you Ritsu-kun. I will never be able to repay you for everything you did for us." He blushed a bright red and mumbled something dismissive, shrugging away five years of aid and support as if it were nothing.

"Come on in," she beckoned the two towards the house, "Everybody else is already here."

Kasanoda's expression sobered and he straightened up uncomfortably. "I just came to drop of Mei-chan." Reaching up, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "We aren't in high school anymore, Haruhi-kun. It might not be the best thing for you to be seen with me now."

Haruhi understood immediately what he was referring to. "I don't care what the rest of the world thinks of you. You're my friend," she said bluntly. "You were there when I needed someone and anyone who disapproves of me acknowledging you can just… they can just go to hell." Softening her expression, she gave a teasing grin. "Besides, I'm planning on being a criminal defense lawyer. Being thought well of by the head of a yakuza clan will only help my reputation."

"See," Mei said, whacking her husband in the stomach with her arm, "I told you she would feel that way, moron. Now stop acting like an idiot and let's go in."

Her husband's cheeks matched the color of his hair as he snarled, "Alright, you loud woman, have it your way," and followed her inside.

They were met by a herd of elephants in the guise of two small boys trampling down the stairs the minute they entered the house. "Mama, Ru-chan and I are hungry. Is it time to eat yet."

Mei bent over, hands on her knees. "You must be Dai-chan. I'm the Auntie who sent the clothes you're wearing."

Daiki recovered his manners enough to greet her and thank her politely for the gifts she'd sent throughout the years. Mei asked a few teasing questions about other things until he unloosened and was able to enthusiastically answer her questions about what he did and didn't like about the most recent outfits. Haruhi had never seen Mei act so gentle towards anyone and she couldn't help looking at her old friend as if she'd suddenly sprouted a second head. When done, Mei stood up and met Haruhi's quizzical look with a shrug. "What? Market research. Clothes for kids have to be comfortable as well as look good."

Kyoya emerged at that moment from the living room. "Haruhi, Megumi-chan is wondering if she should start serving the meal soon." He stopped on seeing the most recent arrivals and he and Kasanoda exchanged brief nods. "I'm glad you were able to make it, Kasanoda-san. I'll let them know to set two more places." His gaze slid to the two boys at the foot of the staircase. "And will they be joining us as well? The dining table can be stretched to fit up to twenty if needed."

Haruhi rolled her eyes, still unable to believe she now lived in a place that could comfortably fit sixteen adults, nineteen if you included the caterers, and two children with plenty of room left over for more. "Dai-chan, do the two of you want to eat with us or in your room."

Takeru tugged on Daiki's sleeve and cupped his hand to whisper in the other boy's ear. Daiki nodded and turned to his mother. "Ru-chan wants to eat upstairs. Can we watch Anpanman? It's Ru-chan's favorite show too."

She looked back and forth between two boys wearing matching pleading expressions. "I'll check with Takeru-kun's mom. If she's okay with it than no more than an hour." Daiki gave her a quick hug of thanks, grabbed Takeru's hand, and scampered back upstairs.

"See, I told you they'd be fine," Kyoya said softly as the four adults headed in to join the others, "Someone with high walls like Takeru-kun needs a human battering ram like Daiki-kun to get past them."

Haruhi peered up at him from the corner of her eyes. "Are you talking about Takeru-kun or yourself Kyoya-sempai?"

He only smiled enigmatically and went off to talk to the caterers.

"Oi, Mei!" Kaoru greeted the Kasanodas as they walked in. "Thought I recognized your brand on Daiki." He nodded at the outfit she was wearing. "Too bad your adult line is more suited to the trailer park."

"Kaoru," she acknowledged with a sneer. "So sorry I beat you out for that _Zipper_ cover shoot, better luck next time. Where'd you get that haircut? It makes you look like a rooster."

Haruhi must have looked alarmed because Stefan sidled up to her, plate of appetizers balanced in his hand. "No worry, all the time they fight like cat and dog. You have this expression, yes?"

"Something similar, we say they have a 'dog and monkey relationship,'" Haruhi replied, "Your Japanese is very good, but it's alright if you'd prefer to talk in English."

" _No, grazie._ I speak Japanese tonight. I am still learning. It is, for me, fourth language but first Asian one." He gestured towards the quarrelling designers. "Mei's clothes very popular in Japan but Kaoru sell better in America. Bicker, bicker, bicker when they meet." He made a 'yapping' motion with his hand on the word 'bicker.'

Stefan tilted his head and studied her with a professional eye. "Your, how you say - bone structure? _Molto bella!_ Oi, Kaoru," he called out interrupting the argument, "I do Haruhi hair and makeup when visit, yes?"

Haruhi's brows drew together and she looked at the twins first in confusion but, when both of them flushed guiltily her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Hikaru, Kaoru, what's this about a visit?"

"Ah… we showed Mom a picture of the moppet," said Hikaru.

"She wants to take some photos of Daiki and Ageha in some of the prototypes for her fall children's line." Kaoru continued.

"The two of you are invited for lunch before school starts," said Hikaru, "we were going to talk to you about it later."

Haruhi almost laughed, both of them were wincing and half curved away from her as if anticipating her to morph back into the third host club demon over something as trivial as this. "Your mother was always nice to me. I'd like to see her again." The heaved out twin sighs of relief and relaxed their shoulders. "But I'm not sure when I'll have time, I still need to visit the neighbors and pick up school supplies and groceries for the week…"

"Monday should be fine," Kyoya cut in, "The Suoh's have requested to have lunch with you on Sunday. If you visit the Hitachiin's on Monday it would still give you Saturday and Tuesday to get settled in and ready for your and Daiki-kun's first day."

Mentally, she fit in all the things she wanted to do into a schedule and concluded that she could spare Monday afternoon. "That should work, then, if it is good for your mother," she said to the twins. "Please excuse me, I need to talk to Fuyumi-san and arrange for food for the children." Haruhi left the group and headed back towards the kitchen, stopping to ask Fuyumi if it were alright for the boys to watch TV on the way.

"Who put you in charge of her schedule?" Hikaru growled at Kyoya the minute she left.

Kyoya pushed his glasses up with one finger until light glinted off it. "I am simply the person in contact with most of those who wish to reconnect with her so am the best informed about her needs."

"Jeez guys, lay off," muttered Renge before things could escalate, "She's not a bone!"

Both men turned and looked at her uncomprehendingly. She rolled her eyes dramatically. "If I were illustrating this there'd be a pair of large snarling dogs behind each of you. A Doberman Pinscher and German Shepherd respectively." She pointed rudely first at Kyoya and then Hikaru.

Her eyes lit up and she whipped around to declaim towards the room in general. "Aiko-san! New story idea – an innocent, gentle-hearted undergraduate is torn between his sadistic _megane_ professor on one side and his flashy play-boy _sempai_ on the other. Take a note!"

Aiko looked up from her cellphone. "Already done, Renge-sensei. Tagged as heavy smut, lots of 'but I'm a guy' non-con…" She looked critically over at Kyoya. "And definite S&M elements."

"Renge," drawled Kyoya, smiling so widely his eyes disappeared. "This professor better not have black hair. In fact, I strongly suggest he not look the slightest bit Japanese."

Both Renge and Aiko gulped and clutched at each other in fear as the Shadow King turned and non-chalantly strolled away.

* * *

Haruhi bid farewell to the caterers as they finished packing up the van and drove away. Daiki was upstairs taking his bath, a pile of gifts waited for her to unwrap in the spare room she was planning to make her study, and the guests had left thirty minutes ago.

All but one.

Kyoya sat on the raised entry step into the house slipping on his shoes and she went to fetch his coat from the closet. In the end, the evening she had thought would be a bother had turned out to be, well… fun. Over five years may have passed, but every one of the people here tonight had seamlessly slid right back into her life as if she had never left. The empty place inside her that she had lived with for so long she hadn't realized it was there was overflowing with a soft, glowing warmth.

And it was all due to one person.

"Thank you, Kyoya-sempai," she said as she handed his coat over.

He took it from her hands and slipped it on. "I already told you, Megumi-chan only charged cost for tonight so it was nothing to pay for her services as your housewarming gift."

"No, not that." She smiled at him fondly. "Thank you for manipulating me into coming back."

He drew himself up and pushed up his glasses. "I don't know where you get the idea that I…"

She barked a laughter at his attempt to deny it. "Please, Kyoya-sempai, you knew exactly what buttons to push, don't deny it." The faint pink on his cheeks at having been caught out made her smile grow wider. "But, thank you. I've only been back a day and already I feel more… connected here than I did in all five-and-a-half years in Sapporo."

"Of course you do," he replied quietly. "This is where you've always belonged, Haruhi." His eyes met hers and again she marveled at just how warm the color gray could be. Abruptly, he broke their shared gaze and looked down, focusing on the hands buttoning up his jacket. "I'll send a car to pick you up tomorrow, will one o'clock work?"

"Tomorrow?" Haruhi wrinkled her brow. "Was there an appointment I forgot about?" In addition to lunch at the Hitachiin's Monday and a bridesmaids' spa visit with Hana and Reiko the following week, Haruhi now had a playdate for Daiki and Takeru next Saturday, a commitment to come watch the regional Kendo championship next month, and a reservation for dinner at Megumi's father's restaurant two Friday's from now on her calendar.

When Kyoya looked at her again, he once again seemed fully composed. "I presumed you'd be going there to visit them." She must have looked confused because he elaborated. "Your parents' and Tamaki's graves, weren't you going to visit them tomorrow?"

"Yes, but how did you know I was planning to do that?"

Kyoya's smile was as warm as his eyes. "Because that is the type of person you are. I'll meet you there, along with one other person who would like to meet you and Daiki-kun. Call me if you'd prefer me to send the car at a different time."

Giving a precise bow, he bid her farewell and headed out to the town car waiting for him, Tachibana the nephew at the wheel. Haruhi closed the door behind him and headed upstairs to read Daiki a story and tuck him into bed.

It was strange, she'd been socializing all day – something that normally exhausted her. Yet, for some reason, there was a tiny piece of her that wished he had stayed just a little bit longer.


	13. Grief

Kyoya was already waiting for them when the car pulled up at the cemetery gates. Although his back was to them while he talked to someone hidden behind his large frame, Haruhi had no trouble recognizing him. He was probably the only person under fifty dressed in a light gray pinstripe suit on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe under sixty - most of the grandfathers passing through the gate were wearing nothing more formal than short-sleeved button shirts and khakis. Two wooden buckets for cleaning the graves rested by his feet and flowers poked their heads past the edge of his bicep. She wouldn't be surprised to find he'd already purchased incense for both of them from the temple as well.

A crisp, spring breeze whipped the flared edges of her emerald green dress around her knees, making her glad for the navy knit beanie, cardigan and tights she was wearing to ward off the chill. Beside her, Daiki hunched his back over the flowers he'd been entrusted with carrying to protect them from the wind. As they drew closer to the pair, Haruhi called out a greeting. Her eyes widened when Kyoya turned around and stepped to one side, revealing his companion. It was someone she had never expected to see again.

"Fujioka-sama." Shima accompanied her greeting with a formal bow. The Suoh retainer's stern expression turned warm when she looked at the child by his mother's side and she bowed even deeper. " _Hajimemashite,_ Daiki-bocchama, I am Shima. I was your father's housekeeper."

Daiki's face brightened as it always did with any mention of his papa and his enthusiasm showed in his bubbly introduction and 'please take care of me.' Haruhi exchanged the older woman's greeting by rote, her brain trying to find a polite way of asking a woman several times her elder just what she was doing here.

"I come here every weekend to visit my sister," Shima said, anticipating what Haruhi's perplexed expression meant, "I apologize for interrupting your visit, but this way I did not need to bother you at home. Ootori-sama had mentioned you required after school care for Daiki-bocchama and I wish to offer my services before you commit to other arrangements."

Haruhi's narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the probable architect of this little scheme. Kyoya merely widened his eyes as if wounded and gave a faint smile. He was the perfect portrait of innocence, the bastard. He should have discussed this with her first so she could avoid the awkwardness of this moment. On second thought, that was probably why he hadn't. Smug, manipulative, bastard.

"Shima-san, I'm sorry but I think Kyoya-sempai may have misled you about my requirements." She kept her tone polite while mentally cursing at the man who'd put her in this position. "I'm looking for a daycare for Dai-chan, not a domestic arrangement."

"Perhaps you shouldn't reject the offer out of hand, Haruhi." Kyoya intervened using the suave tone that meant he was up to something and would probably get his way in the end. "Most of the childcare centers in the price range you gave me would be less convenient for you. None of them would be able to pick Daiki-kun up directly from kindergarten and they all have strict closing times that could interfere with your internship."

Haruhi felt the tightness in the smile she forced on her face. He was going to make her say it, wasn't he? "I am sure Shima-san would be an excellent nanny for Dai-chan, but I would be unable to pay her as she deserves." Even without paying rent or tuition, her internship salary would not cover the expense of a private nanny.

Shima made a dismissive gesture. "It is for the employee to decide whether the wages are acceptable. Since this is something I decided on my own, I would not ask for more than what you would pay a childcare center."

The lower half of Haruhi's face was trying to smile politely at the elderly woman while the upper part glared daggers at Kyoya. This was too convenient and she wondered who would really be paying Shima's salary. Once again he was cornering her, taking control of her life out of her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth between the pair as she racked her brain for a good reason to refuse an offer most mothers – single or married – would leap at.

"Fujioka-sama, did you ever hear how I came to work for the Suoh family?" Shima asked suddenly.

Her thought process derailed, Haruhi could only shake her head. "No. Tamaki did tell me once you had worked for his grandfather."

"Close. My first mistress was Yuzuru-sama's grandmother. I began working for the family towards the end of the war." The older woman tucked her hands in the sleeves of her kimono and looked off into the distance. "My parents died when I was young, leaving my older brother, me, and my little sister, Mariko, behind. When the war came, Onii-san went off to fight, as all the young men did back then, while Mariko and I did our patriotic duty by working at a factory in Osaka.

"Late 1944 my brother died in some battle too insignificant for the history books. It couldn't be helped, so Mariko and I carried on." The folds of Shima's kimono stirred in the wind and a shadow passed over her face. "That following spring, Osaka was repeatedly bombed until there was nothing. First we lost the factory we worked at. Then our home. Finally, even our neighborhood association disintegrated as people fled to the countryside and with it went our access to food rations. All we had left was each other, the name of Onii-san's commanding officer, and the information that his wife had moved from Tokyo to her family's home in Kyoto to avoid the ongoing bombing of the capital.

"Most people would have thought it a stupid idea, but I was desperate. Mariko was sixteen but so thin and malnourished she looked like she was twelve. " Shima's eyes met Haruhi's and they exchanged a quiet acknowledgement of the lengths a woman would go to protect the people they loved. "I carried Mariko on my back all the way to Kyoto. I planned to beg Captain Suoh's wife to at least give her shelter and I would pay her whatever I could for Mariko's upkeep. Nobody was hiring, most of the factories were destroyed, but I was pretty enough, and mentally strong enough, for the type of work that is always available to women without family or connections."

Something shifted in Shima's expression, giving it the illusion of softness, and her voice infused with warmth. "My mistress had no reason to help us - her husband must have had hundreds of men under his command at some point during the war. There was no obligation, but she took us both in anyway. There were already so many people relying on her and she had nothing herself. The Suoh family's factories and properties in Tokyo were in ruin, the banks they'd kept their money in destroyed. All she had until her husband returned was her maternal family home. When the Americans arrived, she turned it into a boarding house and hotel for the westerners tromping in and out of one of the only intact cities. Most people were trying to revamp whatever they had into western-style accommodations, but she was a visionary. She knew there was a market for something different - that our hotel would appeal to the ones who wanted an 'authentic' experience of exotic Japan. And she was right. For my part, I did whatever I could to help her - cooking, cleaning, gardening, and, of course, taking care of her three young children, including Yuzuru-sama's father."

Shima's wizened eyes bore into Haruhi with every ounce of the steely reserve that had gotten her through that devastating time. "I know you believe that my offer is at Ootori-sama's prompting, and I understand why." She shook her head and made a soft 'tsk' with her tongue. "He's a nice enough boy but too slick. Just like his father."

Haruhi covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. Kyoya polite, social expression had faltered and he was studiously avoiding looking at anyone. She was sure, if she pointed it out, he'd claim the pink on his cheeks was due to cold.

" _I_ was the one who asked to be allowed to meet you. My mistress saved Mariko's life and saved me from a life of dishonor. That is a debt I can never repay." Shima pressed her hands together and bowed deeply, almost at a perfect 90-degree angle. "Fujioka-sama, please do not deny me the opportunity to take care of my lady's great-great-grandson."

Haruhi's heart lurched at the earnest plea and any remaining irritation fled. Returning the older woman's bow, she accepted it in the spirit it was offered, "In that case, Shima-san. Please take care of my son."

In an instant the elderly lady's posture was once again ramrod straight and her face betrayed no acknowledgement that she'd ever spoken of any past troubles. "Very good. I will begin work on Wednesday after his school ends. We will work out the rest of the schedule that day, after you've returned home."

A slight chill crept up Haruhi's back. Kyoya might not be the only master manipulator she had to worry about.

"Shima, allow me to escort you to your sister while Haruhi visits her parents," Kyoya interjected into the silence that followed, masterfully papering over any lingering awkwardness between the two women. He picked up both wooden buckets and handed one to Haruhi. "We'll meet back here when you are done." At her quizzical look he elaborated, "I'll show you where the Suoh family grave is located."

With that, the quartet split in two - Kyoya and Shima heading off to the left and the other two to the right. Juggling the bucket and incense sticks in one hand, Haruhi took Daiki's hand with the other and headed along the tree lined pathways towards one of the less prominent areas of the cemetery. Breathing in the Sakura scented air, she allowed the peaceful calm of the place to relax her. She'd always been glad her father had selected this as her mother's resting place. It was beautiful, especially now with the cherry blossoms in full bloom.

Growing up it had never occurred to her to wonder how her barely middle-class father had been able to afford a grave in a cemetery prestigious enough for a family like the Suohs. She'd only thought of it as the closest graveyard to her childhood home; that was explanation enough. It was only after her father's death that she'd learned the truth - the grave had been purchased by Kotoko's maternal grandmother, the only member of the family who hadn't cut all ties when Kotoko had 'disgraced the family' by marrying a bartender and occasional cross-dresser.

This small gesture had been the extent of what the woman, unable to break ranks with the rest of the family, could do for her grand-daughter. After her death, she'd left a small trust to pay the yearly maintenance fees. That was all Haruhi knew about her mother's family, and all she intended to ever know. If her father wasn't good enough for them, then they weren't good enough for her. Not that they'd be anxious to acknowledge an unmarried mother anyway.

"Mama, is this where Obaa-chan, Ojii-chan, and Papa live?" Daiki asked, breaking her reverie. He was fidgeting alongside her, obviously trying hard to follow her earlier instructions on acting appropriately and to not skip, run, or bounce. She gave him about twenty more minutes before he broke. At most.

"They don't live in any one place, Dai-chan, they're always with us. But this place is where their bodies are and we come here to show them how much we love them."

Daiki's face screwed up tight while he processed this. "But don't we do that every day at the _butsudan_?"

"Yes, we do that in front of the altar too, but this is different." Like most serious conversations with a five year old, she was rapidly heading into deep philosophical waters and she cast around for a life preserver. "It's like the difference between seeing someone every day and making time to do something special with them."

"Oh. Okay," Daiki responded with a shrug, mostly because he knew Mama expected him to say something. He still didn't understand – if his father and grandparents were always with him, then why did they need to come here? He didn't ask any more questions. If he did, she'd probably just say it was something he'd 'understand when he was older.'

The list of things he'd understand then was getting _really_ long.

When was older, anyway? He'd turned five a few weeks ago but didn't know more now than when he was four – he'd made sure. Waking up the morning of his birthday he'd searched his mind to see if the knowledge had arrived while he was sleeping. Maybe older was when you were six. Or ten. Ten sounded right, he bet ten was when you got to know _everything._

They stopped in front of a stone rectangle with writing on it that didn't look any different from the other stone rectangles around it. He was able to read one word on it – Fujioka – because he'd memorized the Kanji for that in preschool. Mama's forehead wrinkled and she plucked some dried flowers from a hole built into the stone, muttering 'that's strange' under her breath. He was going to ask what was so strange but she shook her head and acted as if nothing had happened before he had a chance.

Mama had him pull out some weeds poking up around the grave. It was easy – there weren't too many and the ones that were there were tiny. He put them on top of the dead flowers she'd placed on the path beside her. Next, she showed him then how to wash the stone, which already looked clean enough to him, and then let him put some of the flowers they had brought in the holders on each side. She wouldn't let him light the incense, he wasn't allowed to use matches yet, but she did let him put the smoking stick in the tiny holder made just for it. He liked the smell but it tickled his nose and made him want to sneeze. That probably wasn't 'propriate to do here either.

"Now we talk to Obaa-chan and Ojii-chan. Just like at home." Haruhi illustrated her instructions, pressing her palms together, closing her eyes, and bowing her head.

"What do I say?" Daiki whispered.

"Whatever you want." She smiled but kept her eyes closed. "If you can't think of anything then tell them how you are doing and thank them for looking after you."

Daiki copied his mother and thought really, really hard so his words would reach his grandparents wherever they were. _"Hi Obaa-chan and Ojii-chan, its Daiki. I know I talked to you this morning but Mama says to do it here too. Do you like Tokyo? I do, but I miss my friends and Maria-oba and Thomos-kun and Erica-chan and Sato-ji and everyone. I don't miss Nakamura-sensei or Yuuma-kun though._

" _I'm going to start kindergarten soon at a new school. Don't worry, it's going to be okay. My best friend Ryu-chan is in my class and we're going to have so much fun! He's kinda quiet but he has the_ best _ideas! I don't like the uniform I have to wear – it's pink! It makes me look like a baby. And a girl. But please don't tell Mama that."_

He peered up at his mother to see if they were done but she was still praying. He closed his eyes again. _"I think Mama likes it here and I don't want her to worry. She smiles a lot now. And laughs. And I haven't once seen her face get all scrunchy like when she wants to cry but won't do it in front of me."_ Growing bored with trying to act respectful, he rocked back and forth from one foot to the other. _"That's all I have to say for now. Bye Obaa-chan, Ojii-chan. Talk to you when I get home."_

He opened his eyes and looked around. Mama was _still_ talking to her parents so he turned his attention elsewhere. While he'd been praying, two silver-haired women had arrived and were washing a stone near theirs. Daiki smiled at them and gave a little wave. He liked grandmothers – they always patted his head, told him he was a good boy, and gave him candy. They smiled back and whispered to each other in a way that suggested there would be sugar in his future.

Haruhi could feel Daiki stirring next to her and hurriedly finished updating her parents on everything in her life. She knew they watched over her, but there was always something about being by their grave that made their presence seem more real. When she was here, she almost felt she could hear them answer her back.

Opening her eyes, she bent down to clear up the debris from cleaning the grave. It was surprisingly small – there were only a couple weeds and the marker had been so clean that her cloth was still mostly white. Perhaps that maintenance fee her great-grandmother's trust paid included hiring someone to take care of the graves that weren't visited.

She piled the dead plants into a small garbage bag and handed it to Daiki to carry while she took care of the bucket and cleaning supplies. "Okay, Dai-chan. Let's go back to the entrance to meet Shima-san and Ootori-ji."

As she turned to leave, a tall, bird-like woman who looked to be in her sixties stepped in front of her. "Excuse me," said the woman with a small gesture towards the smaller, plumper, and equally aged, one beside her, "My sister and I couldn't help but wonder if your being here means Fujioka-san might have gotten married?"

Haruhi shook her head slightly, not quite comprehending the question. The woman had sounded so hopeful and she hated to disappoint. "I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. I'm Fujioka. This is my parents' grave. We've been living in Sapporo the last few years, though, and haven't been able to visit."

"Oh, that's disappointing," replied the plump one. Her eyebrows flew up in shock when she realized what she said and she frantically waved her palm in front of her face. "No, no. Not that you couldn't visit. I meant we were hoping to hear some happy news. Your... brother?... seems like such a nice man."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Haruhi replied, "I'm an only child."

A concerned look passed between the two women. "Maybe he was a cousin?" asked the plump one.

"I don't have any of those either," said Haruhi, utterly bewildered by the conversation.

The thin one did her best to recover from the sudden awkward turn things had taken. "You must think we are terribly rude. I'm Hashida Sachiko and this is my sister Youko. Well, I say sister but only because we married the Hashida brothers. We are a little confused because we come here often and for the last few years, about once a quarter, there's been a pleasant young man here visiting that grave. We assumed he was a family member."

The smaller one wrung her hands together. "Perhaps we should call the police."

"And do what, Youko-chan?" Sachiko's exasperation seemed to hint at something long-standing and not just arising from this event. "It's not like there's a law against worshiping somebody else's ancestors!"

"But, don't you find it sort of… creepy? I know _I_ wouldn't want some stranger visiting my tomb."

"Don't be a ninny. There is nothing creepy about bringing someone flowers and the occasional bottle of sake. And with your children a stranger might be the best you could get!"

Youko huffed and crossed her arms over her ample chest. "All I'm saying is that it really shouldn't be allowed. Decent people don't go around doing that sort of thing."

Sachiko shook her head and dramatically rolled her eyes. Haruhi had the distinct impression this was another round in a fight that had probably been going on for years. "What did this man look like?" Haruhi asked, averting the bird woman's next salvo.

"Tall, black hair, glasses," replied the thin one succinctly, "Very polite."

"Reallly handsome too," added the plump one with a longing sigh, "Reminded me of my Kiyoshi."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sachiko snapped, " Kiyoshi was at least a foot shorter and twenty kilo heavier."

Youko opened her mouth to retort and Haruhi jumped in. "Oh, it's alright. He's a… distant relation I'd forgotten about. I'll have to thank him for looking after things while I was gone."

Matter settled, the two women calmed down. Youko patted Daiki on the head and commented on how he looked like a good boy while Sachiko fished around in her purse and came up with a piece of hard candy for him. The four exchanged goodbyes and the Fujiokas headed back towards the entrance, Haruhi shaking her head ruefully most of the way.

He would never have told her about this but, really, would it kill Kyoya to finally admit he was a nice guy? A tiny giggle escaped her, which she quickly suppressed with an apologetic look toward her surroundings. There was no way for him to spin taking care of her parents' grave into something that was advantageous to him, but a small part of her was looking forward to teasing him as he tried.

* * *

They were the same general shape, and had the same purpose, but aside from that the Suoh family grave bore little resemblance to the modest Fujioka marker. The Italian marble headstone took up space enough for three other tombstones and had at least a dozen names engraved on it – with plenty of room for more. It was a silent declaration that, generation after generation, the Suoh family endured.

With three adults even this behemoth had been washed and had flowers, incense, and offerings placed in record time. Shima had then moved to stand behind the two she already regarded as 'the family,' allowing them to occupy the most prominent positions. Daiki's head was obediently bowed, his little face screwed up tight in concentration and his lips moving wordlessly. Kyoya, standing on the child's other side, had his eyes closed and hands pressed together reverently as well. But, although Haruhi had put her hands together, her head wouldn't bow. Her eyes wouldn't close. Over and over they traced the dark lines of the Kanji that made a grim mockery of the Suoh families illusions. Anything could come to an end - suddenly and without warning.

_Tamaki._

Forcing her eyes shut, she tried to relax and let herself feel the serenity of the surroundings. Tried to conjure a comforting image of the person she loved so they could converse. Nothing appeared behind her eyes but darkness.

_This was Tamaki's grave._

No images, no words came to fill the silence hammering at her mind and she opened her eyes once more, fixing them on the monument before her.

_Tamaki was dead._

Stupid. She knew that. It had been the central tenant of her life for over five years. Tamaki was dead and she wasn't. Tamaki was dead but she had to live. She had to go on for the sake of his son. She knew that. Didn't she?

The silent tomb stood there unmoving, as it had for decades. Mocking her. Stripping away all comforting illusions. Allowing no pretense. Tamaki was gone. He wasn't off still having adventures in a distant land she couldn't quite reach. She wouldn't walk around a corner one day to find him standing there, would never catch a glimpse of the back of his head from across the street. He was gone.

And he was never coming back.

His smile, his laugh, his _everything_ had been burnt to ash and been locked away behind that cold, unforgiving stone. She would never again see the sunlight glint off his hair as he flipped it back with his hand, or watch his fingers fly across the piano keys, or feel them caress her skin, or clutch his strong back, or be enveloped by the warmth of his arms. There would be no more ill-conceived plans, no more hunched figure growing mushrooms in her closet, no gentle teasing, or warm kisses, or…

There'd be no more anything.

Haruhi looked inside the piece of her heart where she'd tucked away her memories of him, the ones she pulled out to keep her warm when the days and nights had been too cold, and found only an empty pit. An aching, yearning, hunger that could never be filled. Levees she'd spent years building to keep the dark at bay were overwhelmed by the tsunami flooding in - a roiling black mess of grief and anger and guilt that hammered at her again and again.

She felt more than saw the child at her side and turned that knowledge into a frail scaffolding to keep her outward composure from showing the cracks beneath. All her senses narrowed down to a single focus. A single familiar litany that helped her weather the storm. She had to be strong. She couldn't break. There was someone depending on her to hold everything together.

This time, it wasn't enough.

* * *

Daiki finished telling his papa the same things he'd just told his grandparents and fitfully wondered if it was time to go yet. Cemeteries were really boring. He'd hoped they'd be full of ghosts and vampires and other fun stuff. Turned out they were mostly full of grown-ups. And rocks.

He warily peered up at Mama through his eyelashes, trying to make it look like his eyes were still closed in case they weren't supposed to be done praying yet. Her eyes were open and her hands at her side. Daiki relaxed, opening his mouth to ask if they could leave, but instinct stopped him. He looked at her again, this time closely. Mama's face had the scrunchy look again. Sort of. It wasn't quite the same, usually her eyes blinked a lot and she would wear a weird smile and speak in a creepy 'happy' voice until he pretended to go to sleep. This time her lips were pressed together tight and her eyelids didn't move at all. Slowly he counted to ten just to be sure but all she did was stare straight ahead at the big slab of stone with words he couldn't read.

"Mama?" He could hear his voice shaking just a little and felt a sick feeling in his stomach when she didn't respond.

Not sure what else to do, he turned to the man standing next to him. His new uncle still had his eyes closed, and it was probably rude, but Daiki tugged on his sleeve to get his attention anyway. Ootori-ji's eyes snapped open but he didn't look mad. First he looked at Daiki, then over at Mama. His lips turned down just a little at the corner but he quickly forced them back up into that funny smile grown-ups got when they tried to make kids think nothing was wrong. The sick feeling got worse.

A hand reached out to ruffle Daiki's hair. It felt strong and warm, like it could do anything, and he began to feel a little less like he wanted to throw up. The hand reached out, silently beckoning him to follow. Daiki slipped his smaller hand into the larger one and clung tightly as the two walked over to the Obaa-chan who'd known Papa.

"Shima, I know it is unexpected but would you mind sending Daiki-kun home today and staying with him for a while? Haruhi and I have some business matters to discuss which would be tedious for a child."

Daiki knew his uncle was lying. He could see that the Obaa-chan knew it to. But nobody said anything about it.

"Of course, Ootori-sama." Shima held out her hand and Daiki reluctantly transferred his grip from Kyoya to her.

"Thank you." Kyoya slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a key which he handed to Shima. "The driver should still be waiting out front. I'll let him know about the change in plans. If there is anything you need, let him know and he will provide it."

With a gentle tug, Shima pulled Daiki along towards the exit. "Come along Daiki-bocchama. Perhaps we can stop on the way and get some ice cream, would you like that?"

Daiki murmured a polite 'yes' as they headed back to the car. He couldn't stop from turning to look over his shoulder back at his Mama, she was still standing there without moving. Papa's friend caught his glance and he gave Daiki a small, sharp nod. The child turned his head back around with a relieved smile. Mama would be okay. Ootori-ji had just told him so.

* * *

Kyoya opened the door to his Roppongi apartment and Haruhi filed in docilely behind him. She had barely seemed to notice when he'd tugged her away from the graveyard, hadn't asked a single question about where they were going or why Daiki and Shima were no longer with them. He'd told her anyway, just in case something was getting through the layer of unnatural stillness she'd wrapped herself in.

He flicked on the lights, dropped wallet and keys in a bowl on the entry table, and gestured towards the large white sofa dominating the main room. "Have a seat, I'll get us something to drink."

She obediently perched on the edge of the couch while he headed back towards the small kitchenette and breakfast area at the far end of the room. Taking off his suit jacket and tie, he draped them over the back of one of the counter chairs. He rolled up his sleeves and pulled two glasses out from an overhead cabinet, setting them on the counter and filling one with cold juice from the fridge and another with two fingers of whisky.

Something was very wrong.

Most people would have shown interest in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a commanding view of the city. Or they would peruse the artwork hanging on the walls or his collection of sculptures on the bookshelves. Haruhi just sat listlessly on the couch, her hands curled into little fists resting on top of her knees and staring fixedly at his coffee table.

He had expected today to be difficult for her, it was why he'd arranged to be there, but not this - whatever it was. It wasn't shock, he knew the signs of that after years of medical discussions at the breakfast table. And it wasn't a panic attack. More like it's exact opposite. Was there a medical term for a sudden onset of preternatural calm? It was almost like... he searched his mind, trying to put his finger on just the right term. It was almost like...

_Denial_

The word bubbled up from the back of his brain along with a memory of some half-forgotten text book or journal article. Not denial, not exactly, but something similar. He turned the concept it conjured over in his mind, examining it from all sides and letting the various pieces align into place. It was unusual, but then so were her circumstances. The more he dwelt on the idea, the more certain he became.

After a moment's consideration, he poured another finger of whisky into his glass.

Taking a seat next to her, he wordlessly handed Haruhi her drink. She accepted it with a trembling hand. Ice rattling, she raised it briefly to her lips before lowering her arm and resting her elbow on her knee. He steeled himself with a large sip of his whisky and took the precaution of placing his glass on the coffee table. The rattling sound grew louder as the small tremor in her hand turned to visible shaking.

He caught her glass an instant after it slipped from her hand and fell towards the ground. With a soft, keening wail she buckled over clutching at her stomach and mouth opening in a soundless scream.

Haruhi could feel her body collapse in on itself as if punched in the stomach. She had tried to hold herself together as long as she could, but once the door had closed off the outside world, once she felt safe, the thin dam she had built collapsed and the tide rushed in. Wave after wave of sorrow washed over her, drowning her, crushing her lungs until she couldn't breathe - no matter how much she gasped for air. Raising her palm to her mouth, she bit down hard to try and stop the howl she could feel rising up from the pit of her stomach. The tears pouring down her cheeks like a waterfall just wouldn't stop and she couldn't pull away the hand pressing against the pain in her chest long enough to wipe them away.

Giving up, she surrendered herself to the sobs racking her body – only vaguely aware of the arms around her and the voice muttering nonsensical sounds against her hair.

* * *

When Haruhi finally came back to herself, the world was horizontal.

The fog numbing the edges of her mind cleared long enough for her to process that she was laying on the couch on her side and facing towards the room. A warm knitted throw covered her from knees to shoulders and her head rested on something that was hard and slightly uneven. And warm. And covered in fabric. With a start, she realized it was a lap and she ordered herself to move.

Cheeks burning, she let out a curse when her arms simply wouldn't obey her. Every part of her body felt exhausted. Wrung out. Limp as a dishrag. Strong hands wrapped around her shoulders and eased her up to a sitting position. Haruhi averted her eyes and wiped away at the dried trails of salt on her face. A glass of juice appeared before her and she grasped it with both hands gratefully, gulping it down both to satisfy her dehydration and to cover her awkwardness. As soon as she had finished, Kyoya plucked the empty glass from her hands and headed back to his kitchenette.

Haruhi pressed her hands to her cheeks, they still felt like they were on fire. It was shameful, letting her emotions go like that – especially in front of someone else. That it was Kyoya made it worse. He had always gone out of his way to avoid such unseemly displays. Any sobbing guest at the Host Club who made the mistake of approaching him soon found herself being comforted by someone else.

She could hear him still moving around in the kitchen and took the opportunity to apologize while she didn't have to face him directly. "I'm sorry, Kyoya-sempai. I didn't mean to trouble you like that."

A glass, this time full of something pink and bubbly that smelled faintly of alcohol, manifested in front of her. She reached out and took it, faintly amused that such an austere-seeming bachelor would have strawberry _chuhai_ in his refrigerator. Actually, on second thought, it probably wasn't that strange for a single adult male living alone to have such a feminine drink on hand.

"Haruhi," he replied with a light tone of bemusement, "You should know by now that I never do anything I don't want to." The couch dipped when Kyoya sat down beside her. "I could see your distress at the graveyard, if I had found it troublesome then I wouldn't have brought you back here."

Some of her embarrassment eased and she relaxed, tilting her neck so her head rested against the upholstered sofa back. Still unwilling to look at him, she gazed at the picture dominating the wall to her right – a reproduction of an Edo period ink drawing. No, this was Kyoya. It probably was the genuine article.

"I can't believe I lost control like that. I really don't know what came over me." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Mental and emotional exhaustion had destroyed the filters she usually had in place. "It sounds ridiculous but something about being at his grave just made it all seem more… real."

Fingers reached out and lightly stroked her hair. In anyone else, under any other circumstances, it would have been too intimate a gesture but right now, with him, it felt comforting. Platonic. A small connection between friends who shared the same source of pain.

"Poor girl," he murmured, "You never really allowed yourself to grieve, did you? From the beginning you had someone depending on you to be strong. How many times did you tell yourself that you just didn't have the time to be sad?"

The snort escaped before she could stop it. How did he always _know_ these things? Mourning wasn't something a single mother had the luxury to indulge in. When the pain got to be too much, she'd tell herself she could cry for a few minutes, an hour at most, and would put the rest off until later.

Later had finally caught up with her.

"I wasn't always strong," she confessed, remembering all the times she'd weep by herself while being careful to make no sound. Her hands were still shaking as she took another sip of _chuhai_ , this time from the fatigue still pulling at her muscles. "You know what the worst thing is?" she asked, "The worst is that I can't even be mad about it. He threw himself in front of a car to save a child. I want to scream at god, at the universe, at _something_ for taking him away from me but how can I be angry over something like that?"

"I can." Surprised at his candor, she turned her head to look at him. Behind his glasses, his eyes were the shadowy gray of a stormy sky. "For a long time I was furious at him. I mean, how dare he? How dare he place the life of some… some _stranger_ over every one who needed him. Over my need for his friendship? Even over the need of his own child to have a father?"

"I never told him," she whispered. A few tears she hadn't yet cried prickled at the edges of her eyes. "I never told him I was pregnant." One of her last secrets out at last, she closed her eyes and waited for the judgment she knew would come next. What kind of woman hid _that_ from the man she professed to love?

"I know." Her eyes flew open and he gave a strangled laugh. "Who do you think his first phone call would have been to?"

Kyoya set down his empty whisky glass and placed his arm around her, pulling her against his shoulder in a light embrace that offered nothing more than comfort. "Were you… uncertain?" he asked delicately.

"Do you mean did I think to abort?" She shook her head vehemently. "Never. I loved Daiki from the minute I knew about him. That wasn't why I hadn't said anything."

Haruhi relaxed against his him, her body instinctively craving the warmth of another human being. "I believed we would get married someday, but it was always going to happen sometime in the future. After college. Maybe after graduate school. I loved him, I knew he'd be ecstatic about it too, but the minute I told him I was pregnant I'd end up married, ensconced in the second mansion, and being waited on hand and foot by a dozen servants before the words were out of my mouth."

"Two dozen, more likely. Tamaki always was needlessly excessive."

"Probably," she giggled. "I had been planning on telling him soon, it wasn't like I could hide it much longer anyway, but we were both so young. I just… I just wanted to enjoy being Fujioka Haruhi, commoner and future law student, for a little bit longer. I thought I'd have the rest of my life for most people to think of me as Suoh Haruhi, wife-of-the-current and mother-of-the-future heir to the Suoh empire."

She pulled away from him then and turned around to face him, tucking her knees up against her chest and resting her chin upon them. "Do you think that maybe…. maybe if I hadn't been so selfish he wouldn't have died? Would have thought first before jumping into the street?"

The pain in her voice and haunted look on her face made Kyoya's chest ache even more than her earlier breakdown had. He didn't answer immediately, waiting until she raised her eyes up to meet his. "I think," he replied carefully, "That Tamaki was gallant, and heroic, and utterly impulsive. In the five years we were friends, he never once gave much thought before doing anything. I don't imagine impending fatherhood would have changed that."

Her eyes fluttered shut as she absorbed his words. "I hope you're right." Meeting his gaze once again, she gave a tremulous, heart-breaking smile and a slight nod. "Thank you, Kyoya-sempai."

"I also think you can drop the honorific," he teased gently, "After today I would say our relationship is something more than _sempai_ and _kohai_."

"Well, if that's what you'd like, Kyoya…" Her lips pursed together as she fought against her upbringing. "…kun," she added sheepishly.

He could only chuckle at her compromise, barely resisting the urge to pat her head and drop a kiss on her forehead. At least she was smiling now, without that faint trace of sadness distorting it and making it hard for him to breathe.

She sighed and uncoiled her limbs, swinging her legs around so her feet touched the ground and raising her arms up over her head for a thorough stretch. "I should be getting home," She glanced at her watch in emphasis. "Is there somewhere I can…"

"The restroom is down the hall on the right if you want to freshen up." He nodded the direction and stood up, picking up their glasses and taking them to wash in the sink - giving both of them space to recover, a chance for the Host Club's two most introspective reserved members to resurrect the guards they'd let drop.

Once she'd disappeared down the hallway, he leaned back against the breakfast counter and ran his hands through his hair. Being with her as she mourned the man she'd loved had hurt him more than he'd imagined. Her grief wasn't something he could control or manipulate. He had no power to make it better, to make it go away and ease her suffering. And it had also opened up every one of his own wounds so they felt as fresh as they had that long ago August day. Haruhi was not the only one to suppress her anguish under a layer of duty and obligation. But, if nothing else, today had reinforced his determination to go slow. Even if he had everything in place, _she_ just wasn't ready.

She wasn't ready to let go of her first love.

Kyoya glanced at the photo he kept on the bookshelf behind the sofa, the closest thing to an altar he allowed. Not for the first time, he silently asked if it was a betrayal to wish that one day she would be. Was he being disloyal to hope that someday she'd be able to open her heart again? And, was it the most perfidious thing of all to desire that when she did, it would be to him?


	14. Perceptions

"No! Way!" Haruhi bolted up out of her chair, her lips pressed together in exasperation. She crossed her forearms in front of her face and made a slashing motion with downward with both hands to underline her refusal.

"But why not?" Karou asked. His face was studiously innocent as he held up the hanger to his shoulder and smoothed the simple sheath dress down along his torso so that Haruhi could get a better look at it. "Clean lines, well-tailored, conservative cut – it's everything you've been saying you like."

"It's pink!" Haruhi protested.

"You look good in pink." It wasn't her imagination – Kaoru's voice definitely held a teasing note at odds with his wide-eyed expression.

"It's HOT pink!" She crossed her arms across her chest, unaware of how it made the edges of the white, terry-cloth robe she was wearing gape revealingly. "Can you really imagine me wearing that in a law office? In Japan?"

Holding it up in front of him, Kaoru tilted his head and pursed his lips. "No, I guess not." He tossed it into the growing pile of 'no ways' with the unthinking disdain of someone who knew he wouldn't be the one cleaning up the mess. "But if you think I'm going to let you dress entirely in boring, business black then you shouldn't have asked me to do this."

Haruhi plopped back in her chair. "What I asked you to do was go shopping with me. This -" She gestured around the large room filled with racks of clothes, walls of shoes and accessories, stray pieces of overstuffed furniture, and a screen or two for changing behind. "- isn't exactly shopping."

"So you've said. Repeatedly." Buried neck deep in the middle of the latest rack of dresses, his voice came out muffled. But she could still hear the bite in it. "I told you, Mom's just going to clean out this whole place in a couple weeks and give it all to charity anyway." Muttering something unintelligible under his breath, he tossed a few more things into the 'no' pile. "She always lets people she knows have first pick - friends, family, assistants, random strangers she met on the street... Ah! This is more like it." He popped back out holding another dress.

"No."

"Oh come on! This one's black and everything."

Haruhi rubbed her forehead with the thumb and fingers of her left hand. "Kaoru, it's practically see-through." The long-sleeved dress had a deep V-neck and was made out of a wide-patterned black lace with only a couple strategically placed wisps of flesh-colored silk underneath to hide the important bits from view.

Kaoru did that head-tilting, pursed-mouth thing again. "True. Probably not the best for the office, but it would be an amazing cocktail dress." Slipping it off the hanger he tossed it at her. "Try it on."

Haruhi grabbed it before it hit her face, rose from her chair and ducked behind one of the screens. The first hour of non-stop demands to try 'this on for fit' or 'that on for color' and 'those on for cut' had battered her will to the point where she stopped resisting.

She suspected that had been his intent.

Shrugging off the plush robe, she tried to figure out how to put the delicate looking dress on without ripping it. Careful searching eventually revealed a zipper carefully hidden within a fold of lace on the back. "I still wish you'd let me pay for it," she called over the screen.

Kaoru rolled his eyes and suppressed his snort of derision. Even at a 'charity shop discount,' the meager budget Haruhi had set aside for clothes would barely pay for one of the items in this room.

But she didn't need to know that.

Besides, 'The Closet,' as his family referred to it, accumulated high fashion like a self-destructing starlet accumulated scandal. Half of it wasn't even from the Hitachiin Yuzuha line – it was prototypes, journeyman projects by her assistants, a few things he'd knocked off in college, gifts from fellow designers, things she'd purchased for inspiration or to pair with her work on a photo shoot, and so on. Whenever the room became so full that Mom stopped being able to find things, she threw it all out.

"Just donate the money to Mom's favorite charity if you feel you need to," He called out in between slipping a few more items in the 'maybe' pile, "Besides, you're still going to need your money to buy things we don't have here. Like good underwear instead of that tatty beige crap you've got on."

Haruhi ducked her head around the screen, eyes wide in outrage. "Did you peek!"

This time he did snort. "No, just guessed. Probably bought it at a thrift store too." Haruhi's face turned the color of the dress she'd just rejected. He let out a strangled laugh that bordered on a groan. "Haruhi, I don't know what you're worried about. A – I'm not interested. And B – I spend most of my life around women wearing little more than pasties and a skin-colored thong."

"I know, but it would feel awkward." She stepped out from behind the screen, struggling with the zipper on the back. Stepping behind her, he pushed her hair out of the way and zipped her up. "It would be… it would be like having a brother see you undressed or something."

He grasped her by the shoulders, turned her around, and kissed her forehead with a resounding smack.

"What was that for?" she asked, her eyebrows knit together in adorable consternation.

"For being the only girl I'll ever love." Stepping back, he made a little twirling motion in the air with his index finger. "Now let me see it."

Haruhi obediently turned around. And then around again. Then to one side. Then the other. _Kami,_ he'd broken her will down to the point where she was acting like a trained puppy! When he finally let her turn back to face him, he had that Cheshire cat grin on his face that always unnerved her and his eyes gleamed liquid gold.

"Oh yeah, that one's a keeper." He held up a finger admonishingly. "But get better underwear. No straps. Although, your chest is still small enough you could probably go without."

She looked down at the anatomy in question and shrugged. "Hmm… I never thought of that. It would certainly save money if I didn't have to buy bras."

"You're killing me, Haurhi." Kaoru laughed and she quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering what the joke was. Motioning for her to turn, he partially unzipped the back and gave her shoulders a small push from behind. "Okay, you can go take it off now."

While she changed, she could hear the click of hangers as Kaoru sorted through the racks. She thought she also heard him muttering something that sounded like 'poor Hika,' but that didn't make any sense so she must be mistaken. Removing the dress, she threw it to drape over the top of the screen and wrapped the robe around her.

"This _was_ supposed to be about getting work clothes," she reminded him while walking around the screen. She pulled down the dress and handed it to him. This one he treated more gently, putting it back on the hanger before adding it to a growing rack of items he'd deemed suitable. "Although I do need a cocktail dress so I shouldn't complain."

Kaoru perked up at that. "Really? What for?"

Haruhi sat back in the chair and picked up the cup of tea one of the twin maids who worked for the Hitachiins kept coming by and periodically refilling. "Kyoya invited me to a fundraiser his mother's putting on this Friday."

"Oh he did, did he?" Kaoru drawled out the question, making it sound somewhat sinister.

"Uh… yes?" Taking a sip of the tea she made a face and put it aside. It had grown cold.

"Well, you can't wear _that!_ " Kaoru turned around and studied the racks he still hadn't touched. "That dress is the kind you wear on a date you want to go really, _really_ well. For something as stuffy as an Ootori fundraiser you'll need –" His hand hovered over an item before switching direction and pulling out a dress. "Something like this." Pacing down the narrow aisles formed by the garment racks he grabbed more items, seemingly at random. "Or this. This. And possibly this."

Returning to where she sat, he dumped all of them in her lap. "Okay, try them on."

Haruhi groaned and trundled back around the screen. "Anyone ever tell you that you've gotten really bossy in the last five years?"

"All the time. Comes with the territory – fashion designers are all neurotic perfectionists." While she changed, he continued to sort through the racks. He had a pretty good idea by now of what would fit her and the styles and colors which matched her personality. But making her try things on was a good way to distract her so he could slip things unobserved into the massive pile of stuff he was sending home with her.

She might have only wanted office wear, but there was no way he'd let her walk away from here with just that. Despite her naïve insistence that it was what was on the inside of a person that mattered, the world she was entering was one where impressions could make or break you. Not just her internship – law school, PTA meetings and other Ouran school events, hell – even just grocery shopping in that ritzy neighborhood of hers. She'd need to look good for all of it.

And now it appeared Kyoya would be introducing her to the never-ending round of high society charity events. That would be interesting - all these years and Kyoya had never once escorted a woman who wasn't an immediate family member to any of the events he was obliged to attend. No potential marriage partners. No family friends. Not even a business acquaintance's daughter. The second he walked in a room with Haruhi on his arm, the rumors would fly.

Sneaky, clever bastard.

By the end of the evening, half of Tokyo's high society would be convinced she was his girlfriend. The other half? His mistress. When it came to discouraging the potential competition, or warning off the trust fund trash who would think of her as nothing more than a commoner to be played with, it would work.

But it wouldn't work against _everybody._

Flipping through another rack, Kaoru pulled out a long-sleeved wrap dress in a rich auburn shade that would set off the chocolate brown of her eyes beautifully. He smiled to himself as he put that one aside – he had the perfect use for it.

* * *

Haruhi stared at her reflection in the dressing room mirror. Raising her hand, she touched first her hair, then her painted lips, and then the dress Kaoru'd had his family's twin demon maids stuff her into.

That couldn't be her, could it? She'd never thought she cared about how she looked, but now she knew that was a lie - because the woman looking back was the 'her' she'd always secretly pictured herself as being. She looked confident. Powerful. Fearless.

She looked like her mother.

Giving a small shake of her head, she watched the way the ash highlights in her hair caught the light and how wavy ends twirled around her shoulders before settling back perfectly into place. Stefan had called it a 'classic bob' and swore it would be both professional and foolproof to style. He'd applied makeup in muted colors using a light hand for an effect that was subtle, polished, and more womanly than girlish. Looking like this, she could command a courtroom.

The man definitely knew what he was doing.

It really was remarkable the transformation a hair, makeup, and a carefully selected piece of cloth could make. The color of the dress was beautiful and the way it wrapped around her torso like a kimono gave her the illusion of cleavage. She liked it. A lot. But she'd never let Kaoru know – it would only encourage a repeat of today. Once every five years was enough, thank you.

Leaning forward, she looked closely at the necklace and matching earrings the maids had scrounged up. The three nestled, gold Vs of the pendant dangling over her breastbone were studded with crystals. Those _were_ crystals, right? There's no way they would be… She cut off the thought. Yeah, they probably were real diamonds. She'd have to find a way to return it.

She took a step back from the mirror and wobbled unsteadily as her heel came down off-center. Regaining her balance, she looked at her feet and scowled. The nude-colored high heels were undoubtedly the height of fashion, but did they have to be so high? The things had to be at least 7 or 8 centimeters tall. Who wore shoes like that? And why? They were completely impractical. Her calf muscles were visibly straining with the effort of standing upright in them.

Why had Kaoru insisted she wear them? It was unnecessary. Though the Hitachiins followed western customs, wearing shoes indoors made her feel uncomfortable. Like eating on the subway. Or blowing your nose in public. She was only going downstairs to join the family for dinner – slippers would be fine.

"Wow."

Haruhi whipped around at the unexpected voice from behind her, stumbling as her heels and ankles tangled up with each other. Panicked, she threw her hands out and closed her eyes as the ground rushed towards her.

Bracing for impact, she was started to find herself thud against something warm and solid long before she should have hit the floor. The impact forced the breath out of her lungs with a soft 'oof.'

Opening her eyes, she looked up and saw Hikaru's face snickering down at her. She'd landed smack up against his torso, her arms pinned between their bodies and her hands resting on his chest. A part of her brain couldn't help but note that what lay under her hands was broader and firmer than it had been in high school. Practically Mori-like.

She shushed that part of her mind firmly.

Hikaru's hands came up to grasp her biceps. Lifting her up, he set her back upright on her feet. He didn't release his grip until she'd stabilized her footing. "Wow," he repeated. His amber eyes gleamed softly. "You look amazing."

She put up her guard, waiting for the innuendo, or the inappropriate comment she'd have to act like she didn't understand, or for any other of the things he did when pretending to flirt with her. But it never came. He just stood there staring at her in silence. Gradually, she began to accept that he was being sincere.

It was unnerving and she didn't think she liked it.

The look in his eyes made her feel self-conscious. And, maybe, a little pleased in a way she didn't want to explore. So, she changed the subject.

"Is the photo shoot done already?" she asked.

Hikaru shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the door frame. "Uh huh. The sprout did great – the camera loves him." He flashed a conspiratorial smile. "Not that we should be surprised."

"Sprout?" She pounced on his use of a nickname, trying to turn the mood back to one of camaraderie and away from… away from whatever the hell it was now. "Dai-chan has a name you know."

Hikaru shrugged. "I don't like following the herd. What's wrong with sprout? Kind of goes with his name, 'Great Tree,' right."

"No, idiot," Haruhi scoffed, "The 'ki' is the Kanji for treasure."

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" He gave a small scowl. "Besides, you know Japanese writing was my worst subject. I only passed because you tutored me and Kyoya threatened to do something dire if I had to spend my vacation taking makeup classes instead of earning money for the Host Club ." His expression softened and he caught her eyes. "Great Treasure,' huh? _Tono_ must love that."

"Yeah," she replied, fidgeting with the necklace that was probably worth more than a year's rent on her former apartment and dropping her gaze to the side. "That's one of the reasons I chose it."

Hikaru suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist with his hand. "Come on, I want to show you something."

Feeling like she was tottering precariously in the too-tall shoes, Haruhi stumbled to keep up as he led her down the maze-like corridors of the Hitachiin mansion, down the stairs and out into the back yard. Pulling her through a gap in a wall of shrub bamboo, Hikaru guided her along a curved gravel pathway flanked with a riot of azaleas and other flowering plants on each side and up raised steps into a Japanese style gazebo in natural wood.

Once in the center of the gazebo, he dropped her wrist and moved to the side opposite the entrance. He crossed his arms and leaned them against one of the railings enclosing seven sides of the eight-sided structure.

Haruhi stood in the center of the structure staring bewilderingly at his back. The late afternoon light shimmered around his body, giving the illusion of a golden aura surrounding him. She almost laughed at the dichotomy of Hikaru with an aura like the Buddha. Taking a minute, she looked around the gazebo and the yard beyond it carefully. Nope. Whatever angle she looked at it, there was nothing more interesting than any other garden here.

She walked up next to him, placed her hands on the railing and looked out into the landscape. "You wanted to show me some trees?" she asked, irritation at the way he'd dragged her sharpening her tone.

"Well, this _is_ 'A veritable paradigm shift in the realm of contemporary Japanese landscaping.' At least, that's what the writer for the magazine said." Hikaru swept his arm in a gesture that encompassed the acreage they were overlooking. "Grandma completely redesigns them every couple of years. This time it's an 'English style garden using native Japanese plants and architectural elements' theme."

"Ano…" Haruhi raised one eyebrow and looked at the jumbled mess of flowers, shrubs, and trees mixed with occasional pieces of statuary resembling Shinto gods. "I suppose it's nice."

"I don't think it works either," Hikaru chuckled, "But you've always like real nature better than landscaped so that's not what I wanted to show you." She turned to look at him, becoming even more puzzled when she saw his solemn expression. "I wanted to show you a place you could talk about yesterday without worrying someone would overhear."

"What… what about yesterday?" she stalled.

"Kaoru said he thought you seemed 'off' today. Something about a black lace dress you didn't fight him nearly hard enough over. I figure you must be worrying over something." Hikaru reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You wouldn't be worried about school so I think it has to do with meeting the Suohs yesterday. Am I right?"

Haruhi faced back out towards the yard, giving herself some distance from him. The dinner with Tamaki's parents had been weighing on her mind all day. How had Hikaru of all people been the one to notice that?

"Look," he continued, "I won't nag you into talking about it if you don't want to. But the way I see it, I'm the only person you can say whatever you want to about this."

A derisive snort escaped Haruhi's lips. "You? Really?"

"Yes, me!" Hikaru responded to her snort by childishly sticking his tongue out at her. "Honey and Mori are fond of you, but they value family and bloodlines to an absurdly feudal degree. I don't think they'd really understand. And Kyoya… well, he would never hurt you but the Shadow King does whatever _he_ thinks is best, not what you want."

She interlaced her fingers and grasped the rail tighter. On an instinctual level, she had known all of that. It was part of the reason she was reluctant to burden any of them with her troubles.

"Haruhi," he said, seeming to take her silence as resistance, "I think it would do you good to talk about it. Keeping everything to yourself was one of the things that caused you to run away five years ago. I'd hate it if that happened again just because you thought you couldn't talk to someone. Whatever's going on, I'm in your corner. Whatever you're worried about, whatever complaints you have, I'll listen to them."

His words wrapped around her like a familial embrace and lessened the anxiety that had been fluttering at the back of her mind since yesterday. Smiling up at him, she pushed aside her hesitations and accepted the reminder that no matter what else had passed between them, their friendship was unchanged.

"I know, Hikaru. Thank you." Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the railing. "Yesterday went well. Anne Sophie-san was so happy to meet Dai-chan it made me feel guilty. Like maybe I was wrong to have run away and try to hide him from them." She tilted her head to the side and gave a low chuckle. "Apparently he has perfect pitch, just like Tamaki. I didn't even realize it! She wants to start giving him piano lessons after school."

"But?" Hikaru asked softly, "I'm sensing a great big 'but' hanging over everything you just said."

"But," she acknowledged. Her hands knotted and twisted together as her pulse quickened. "But sometimes, when they looked at him, their eyes were so… hungry. Like starving men looking at a feast just out of reach. It… It made me feel uneasy."

Hikaru was quiet for a second. When he spoke again, she could tell he was picking his words carefully. "Kyoya said that Suoh has known about Ki-chan for two or three years..."

"Ki-chan?" she interrupted with a bemused smile.

"Yeah, I like it. I'm going with it." A smile played on his lips but his eyes were solemn. "My point is - if the Suohs wanted to take him from you, wouldn't they have tried earlier?"

"That's what I tell myself. But…" she trailed off, unable to express just what it was that prickled her maternal instincts.

"But there's a big difference from knowing he exists and seeing him in person." Hikaru finished her thoughts for her. "Seeing the same eyes. The same smile. He's his own person, but he's so much like Tamaki too. It has to feel like god is giving them a second chance at meeting _tono_ again."

She heaved a sigh of relief that someone was able to verbalize her fears. "Yeah, that's exactly it. I _want_ this to work. I never intended for Dai-chan not to know his grandparents. But I can't help but wonder if, now that they've met him, they won't want more."

"He is a pretty cool kid." Hikaru propped his elbow on the railing, rested his cheek against his closed fist and looked at her. "You know," he drawled, "If worse comes to worse you can always marry me."

Haruhi yelped and leaped back from the railing so fast she nearly fell over.

Shoulders shaking with soundless laughter, Hikaru bent over the railing, his tall body nearly folded in two. Haruhi scowled at his back and whacked him on the shoulder. "Baka!" she shouted, "Don't joke like that!"

Hikaru's laughter vanished and, drawing himself up to his full height, he turned around to face her. The fading sun bathed his face in a golden light that gave an almost unnatural glow to his amber eyes. They held not a single trace of humor and rooted her in place. "I wasn't joking."

"Oh, Hikaru…" She gasped out softly. Dismay twisted at her heart as it dawned on her that he was serious. "Hikaru, I…"

He reached out and pressed the tips of his index finger to her lips, stopping her. "Nope. I'm not going to let you continue. It's a serious offer, but that doesn't make it a love confession. If you gave me an answer right now I wouldn't accept it." Dropping his hand, he tilted his head and gave a wry smile. "Unless, of course, the answer is 'yes.'"

Her brow furrowed and she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Unconsciously, she shook her head back and forth as if trying to clear it.

Hikaru shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "The Hitachiins aren't as powerful as the Suohs, but we're celebrities. The media love us – especially in this country. If I put you and Ki-chan on my family register, Suoh couldn't try to take him away from you without creating a shit-storm of negative publicity for himself." Dropping his gaze, he stared intently at the tip of his shoe and scuffed at the wooden planks. His cheeks had a faint flush that wasn't entirely from the afternoon sunlight. "Anyway… I just wanted you to know that you have options other than running away again."

Pressing her fingers to her mouth, Haruhi blinked back tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. He really meant it – if she needed him to he would sacrifice his chance for happiness for her sake. It was so sweet. So unexpected. And a little sad. Sometime while she was gone the self-centered boy she'd known had grown up.

And she'd missed it.

"Hikaru." She called his name softly, waiting until he turned to meet her eyes. "I could never ask you to do something like that…"

"Oh, right!" He interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Because being married to a beautiful, intelligent, kind woman who's also my best friend would be _such_ a hardship." His smile slid off his face and a serious look crept into his eyes. "Promise me that you'll at least keep my offer in mind if you need it." He lifted the corner of his mouth in a self-deprecating smile and shrugged one shoulder. "Please, Haruhi? I really don't think I could take it if you vanished from my life again."

Guilt gnawed at her. In his eyes was a sadness, a fear, that he couldn't quite hide and it was her fault. Knowing she probably shouldn't, she couldn't take away his hope. "All right," she said, forcing herself to smile, "I'll keep it in mind."

Hikaru's face immediately brightened. "Good! If that's settled, we should head back to the house – dinner's probably ready." He draped his arm over her shoulder and began guiding her back towards the main house, the subject clearly dropped for now.

She was too preoccupied to pay much attention to what he was prattling about on the way back to the house. Nothing had been resolved, and Hikaru's solution was... she shied away from continuing the thought. Strangely, though, she was feeling better. Like she was in control of her own life again. "Thanks Hikaru," she said, stopping him in the middle of a detailed recap of the photo shoot with Daiki and Ageha today. "It did help to talk about it with someone."

"So... I helped you right? That means you owe me one." He tilted his chin towards her and gave the scary Cheshire cat grin. "Go out with me."

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Hikaru wrapped his arms around his stomach and howled with laughter. When he recovered, he tapped her chin with his forefinger. "You can stop gaping at me like that, it's not what you think." His gaze intensified and he leaned close to whisper in her ear, "Unless you want it to be."

Haruhi shivered involuntarily at the brush of his breath against her ear. It was nothing he hadn't done a hundred times before - but now she was old enough to know where this type of teasing was meant to lead. Really, it was all in jest but sometimes he went to far. "Knock it off!" She rolled her eyes and flicked him on the forehead. Hard.

"Sorry, sorry. You're still so much fun to tease." Rubbing his head, he was still beaming like a kid having fun with his favorite toy.

Sometimes she just wanted to slap him. The thought brought her up short - why was she overreacting? It was just Hikaru and his usual tricks. Heck, Kaoru treated her the same way and he was practically married. She shook off the thought with an imperceptible twitch of her head.

"Fine, what do you want?" She asked, resigned to the fact that even if she didn't want to she would probably end up agreeing.

"Kao and Stefan want 'couple time' on Sunday and, if I stay around here, Mom will end up roping me in to cleaning out The Closet." He gave an over-exaggerated shudder. "Let me take you and Ki-chan out for the day. I'll bring Ageha - it'll be fun for the moppets. And, it would really help me out... Mom can be slave-driver."

That... actually didn't sound too bad. It would be great for Daiki to make another friend and Hikaru _had_ helped her out. "Okay," she nodded, "As long as I don't have homework."

Impossibly, his smile got wider. "Workaholic," Hikaru teased, draping his arm back around her shoulders and exerting a slight pressure to get her moving back towards the house.

"Better than being a slacker," she replied peevishly.

"Oi! A slacker with a billion dollar IPO, thank you very much..."

The crunching of the gravel beneath their feet accompanied their amiable bickering. Only part of her mind paid attention to the familiar banter, the rest replayed their conversation in the gazebo over and over.

On the surface, he seemed the same Hikaru she'd always known - brash, selfish, childish and a little crass. Today, though, she'd realized that there were depths to him she hadn't considered. Kaoru had said his brother had changed, but this was the first time she'd seen it for herself. What other changes in him had she missed?

Maybe spending the day with him on Sunday would be a good opportunity. Didn't she owe it to him, to their friendship, to throw out her preconceptions of him? Didn't he deserve for her to stop treating him as the boy he once was and to take the time to seek out the man he'd become?

Who knew? If she did, she just might discover that she liked what she found.


	15. Intentions

"I'll get it!"

The high-pitched chirp reached his ears before Kyoya had even removed his finger from the door buzzer. Quickly following was a clatter and series of thuds that sounded like an entire army descending on the Fujioka family's front door.

"Ootori-ji!" Daiki, his face flushed and eyes bright with excitement, flung the door open as wide as it would go. "Welcome! Please come in!" He shouted as if it were a command and not a greeting.

"Good Evening, Daiki-kun." Kyoya's reply was considerably more muted as he followed the royal decree and stepped inside. " _Ojamashimasu_."

Shima poked her head out of the living room. "Daiki-bocchama," she said reprovingly, "A young gentleman does not run to answer the door as if he were a herd of elephants nor does he bellow his greeting to his guest."

The boy colored and he had the decency to look abashed. "Sorry, Shima-san," he said, bowing his apology.

The former doyenne of the Suoh household appeared mollified by the show of good manners and she turned to greet the visitor more formally. "Ootori-sama, welcome. Fujioka-sama will be a few more minutes, may I offer you something to drink while you wait."

Daiki looked up at him with eyes that begged him to turn the offer down. Irresistible puppy-dog eyes. Eyes he simply didn't have the fortitude to refuse.

"Please, Shima, don't trouble yourself, I expect we'll be leaving shortly," Kyoya replied. I'll wait here."

The child's smile at his reply could have lit Tokyo. For a month.

"Then, if you'll excuse me, I will return to preparing the young master's dinner." Fixing Daiki with a stern eye she admonished, "I expect you to conduct yourself like a proper gentleman."

"Yes, Shima-san." Daiki's brown mess of hair bobbed as he nodded solemnly.

As soon as the older lady glided back towards the kitchen, Daiki turned and tugged on Kyoya's sleeve to get attention. "I shouldn't have run, but I had to get to the door first," he whispered in confidence, "I'm s'posed to ask you what your ten… ten…" He screwed up his face in an effort to remember. "Tenyuns! That's it!" Standing upright like a little soldier he looked at Kyoya gravely and said, "What are your tenyuns?"

Kyoya chocked on a laugh, turning it into a strangled cough. "Would 'intentions' be the word you are looking for?"

Violet-blue eyes lit up in delight. "Yes! That's right! I'm s'posed to ask what your intent-tuns are towards Mama."

It was those damn eyes. Even by proxy, they had the power to peer into his soul. Being asked _that_ question by _that_ pair of eyes was more than a little disconcerting. It knocked him off balance. Unsettled him.

An unwelcome heat crept up the back of his neck, fanning a flicker of guilt into a flame. The truth was, his intentions were far less honorable than she deserved. He'd made peace with that fact months ago. He wasn't blind to his selfishness but, In the end, it couldn't be helped. Like the scorpion in the fable, he couldn't change his nature. All he could do was hope that, when all was finally done, he would be granted absolution for the sins circumstances forced him to commit.

But that was between him and the father, not the son.

Kyoya pushed up his glasses as a barrier against the ghosts of the past. "Who told you to ask that?" He kept his tone mild, masking his irritation at the unwelcome interference.

"Kao-ji said I should," Daiki replied innocently, "He said it was somethin' the man of the house was s'posed to do."

"I'm sure he did," Kyoya drawled. Fortunately, Daiki was both too young and too sweet-natured to hear the menace underlying his words. "You may tell 'Kao-ji' that if his brother really wants to know, then he should play the game himself and not through pawns."

Daiki brows knit together and he mouthed the words he'd just heard, trying to untangle them. "You and Hika-ji are playing a game?"

"Of a sort."

"I like games. Can I play?"

"No." Kyoya reached down and ruffled the boy's hair to take the sting out of the words. "You have an unfair advantage, having already gained the prize the rest of us are after."

The child opened his mouth to ask another question, but Kyoya was saved from having to divert him by the sound of Haruhi coming down the stairs. Grateful for the distraction, he looked up in greeting.

The words froze. His breath caught. He had to grit his teeth to make sure his jaw wasn't dropped unceremoniously on the ground.

She. Was. Stunning.

The cream-colored halter dress clung to her like it was made of water instead of silk. Barely more than a wisp of fabric, the alleged 'top' was anchored in place by a gray, rhinestoned trim running along the sides, around her neckline, and looping over her shoulders before coming back around to form a thin crisscrossed belt at her waist. The knee-length strips of fabric hanging from the belt to form the skirt floated around her with every step, teasing at displaying the rest of her gorgeous legs without ever delivering on the promise.

It was simple. Clean. Exquisite. And it emphasized every feminine curve of her breasts and hips, every delicate bone of her collar and shoulders in a way that made his blood heat and heart pound in his ears.

He almost forgave the twins on the spot.

Almost.

"Mama! You look like a princess!" Daiki exclaimed, giving voice to Kyoya's secret thoughts.

She faltered slightly in her steps, as if only now aware of how they were looking at her. "Ano…" She looked down at her attire and then back at Kyoya, an uncustomary hint of self-consciousness in her eyes. "I hope this is okay. Kaoru insisted it was, but..."

He donned the smile he'd used to charm countless women throughout the years, hoping she only noticed that and not the heat he was sure was in his gaze. "It's perfect. You look beautiful." She reached the bottom of the stairs and he held out his hand to take the shimmering, slate colored shawl draped over her arm from her.

Placing the strappy, silver heels she'd carried down with her on the floor of the foyer, she slipped her feet into them. Kyoya held out his arm and she placed her hand on it for balance. "Are you sure? Because I can change." Standing up, she peered at him as if trying to gauge his truthfulness. "I know how important your family considers these things. I wouldn't want to embarrass you by being underdressed."

Typical of her to be concerned about her appearance for his sake and not her own. Kyoya motioned her to turn around before she could see on his face what that knowledge did to him. He had to get a hold of himself – otherwise his family would merely have to look at him to know all.

The back of the dress was, if anything, even more enticing than the front. The thin straps wove together in an intricate web that highlighted shoulder blades perfect enough to be on a runway. His fingers itched to run along them. Trace the lines of the trim around to her front. Graze up her sides, brushing against her bra-less breasts.

Kyoya draped the shawl around her to keep himself from temptation. "Haruhi, I'm quite certain nobody will look at you and believe I'm embarrassed by your presence." Quite the opposite, in fact.

She turned to face him and gave him one of those heartrendingly beautiful smiles of hers. "Thanks for trying to reassure me, Kyoya-sem…" He narrowed his eyes at her and she stopped mid-honorific. "Kyoya-kun. Sorry, it still feels weird."

Extending his arm like a proper escort, he couldn't resist smiling back. "Fortunately, you have an entire evening to get used to saying it."

* * *

"Kyo-chan! How wonderful, you made it after all." The tiny middle-aged woman descended on them in a flutter of Chanel no 5 and lace as soon as they walked in the room.

' _Kyo-chan?'_ Haruhi mouthed at Kyoya, a smile playing on her lips. As far as she knew, only a tiny, blonde sugar-fiend had ever gotten away with calling him that.

He glared at her before turning and addressing their hostess. "Okaa-san, I did inform you that I would be attending."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time you cancelled on me without warning," she said with the air of a poor, neglected grandmother in a nursing home.

"It was one time." He said it mildly enough, but Haruhi caught the edge of petulance underneath. She had a five-year-old. She knew the tone. "And I had a 39-degree fever. Will you ever stop referencing it?"

Yep. Definitely petulance. Her smile fought to escape her control – it wasn't often the feared Shadow King got flustered. Was it weird that she found it cute? Not that she would _ever_ make the mistake of saying that. Still, this just might be the highlight of her night.

"Of course not, Kyo-chan," His mother replied with exaggerated innocence that didn't match the twinkle in her eyes. "It's far too useful a tool in ensuring you continue to show up to my little gatherings."

Haruhi eyes bugged - there had to be upwards of a thousand-people milling around in here. If this was little…

Until tonight, she'd thought Ouran had inoculated her to the extravagance of the upper-classes. But that was a pale imitation of what she saw now. Just children playing dress-up, pretending to experience the world their parents inhabited.

Haruhi's eyes were drawn once more to the three-story high windows encircling the football sized room. Through them, a picture postcard view of the Tokyo skyline competed with the guests inside to out-glitter each other.

So far, she thought the guests were winning.

Tuxedoed men and women wearing sparkling dresses and even sparklier jewelry arrayed themselves around velvet-skirted gaming tables, ignoring the view in favor of each other. A jazz band played counterpoint to the constant buzz of networking, keeping the mood bright and heightening the reckless attitude of the players at the gaming tables filling the room from end-to-end.

'Monte Carlo' night. But nothing like the one the local Sapporo neighborhood association had hosted once using folding card tables and boasting a grand raffle prize of a whole salmon.

Haruhi clutched her fingers around her own stack of chip, feeling the solidity of them. At the door, Kyoya had exchanged their tickets for two stacks of 'play' casino chips purporting to equal a million yen. The brightly colored coins, printed with the logo of the charity the event was benefitting, had a different feel to them than the thin plastic ones she'd been given in the local shopping district 'fun night.' These were probably the same as those used in the high-end casinos the event was patterned after.

The concierge had also discretely let them know that additional stacks of chips could be purchased if they ran out. For the reasonable sum of 100,000 yen! Even though the night was still young, she could see players slipping money across the tables to the dealers to buy themselves back in – all the while knowing that the most they could walk out of here with was a raffle prize. True, the grand prize _was_ a fully paid vacation to an _onsen_ instead of a salmon, but everyone here could easily afford any trip they wanted.

The amount of money being casually dropped tonight would be disgusting if it wasn't all going to assist the families of children with life threatening illnesses.

No wonder Kyoya'd been so good at pulling off all of Tamaki's hare-brained schemes. At keeping the club afloat by milking the guests for every penny of their more-than-generous allowances.

Like mother, like son.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Kyoya's mother turned to face her, one eyebrow raised up in a silent inquiry. "Okaa-san," Kyoya said smoothly, "This is Fujioka Haruhi, my friend and kohai. Haruhi, my mother Ootori Naoko."

Haruhi went to bow, but found herself swept up in a hug. "Haruhi-chan, I'm so happy to meet you at last. I've heard so much about you." Arms pinned to her side, Haruhi could only gaze frantically over the woman's shoulder at her friend. What the hell had he told his mother about her?

The bastard just shrugged.

The Ootori matriarch stepped back. "Oh, not from _him_ ," she elaborated, correctly interpreting Haruhi's confusion. "He's more close-mouthed about his life than a monk. Thankfully, Fuyumi has always kept me up-to-date about Kyo-chan's little adventures. And, of course, lately she can't stop talking about how happy Ru-chan is to have a friend in his kindergarten class."

"So, Fuyumi was _your_ spy," Kyoya drawled, "I'd always thought she was one of Otou-sama's."

"Don't be peevish, you'll make your friend uncomfortable." Naoko gave her son the kind of dismissive look only a mother could pull off. The disgruntled (No, _peevish._ Definitely peevish.) look on his face had Haruhi swallowing a laugh. "And I'm you mother, I'm supposed to pry. It's in the job description."

Naoko stretched out her hand and laid it on Haruhi's forearm, her bright and breezy attitude turning sober. "I was so sorry when I heard about your father, I'm told he was a lovely man. My son seemed quite fond of him, I know he must have been very special."

Haruhi blinked at the sudden turn in conversation and a small lump formed unexpectedly at the back of her throat. Over time, she had grown used to the platitudes. Sincerity, like the kind she could see in the eyes of the older woman, always caught her off guard. "That's very kind of you to say."

"You're so young to have experienced so much tragedy. It is a rare person who doesn't let that break them but manages to turn that into a source of strength. I admire that in you."

"I'm not at all strong, Ootori-san," Haruhi replied, flustered at the unwarranted praise, "I just try to live my life in a way that honors the people who cared for me."

"Oh, very well said. Very well said indeed." The older woman smiled gently and she reached out to clasp Haruhi's hands in hers. "Haruhi-chan, if you were willing to share your story with others, I think you could do so much good. One of the charities I work with raises money to fund liver cancer research and we need young people like yourself to help bring attention to the cause."

The idea of sharing her private pain in such a public manner sent her into a panic. She fluttered her hand back and forth in front of her face in denial. "Oh, no. No. I don't think…"

"Please don't dismiss the idea without thinking it over carefully," Naoko interrupted, kindly but implacably, "You say you wish to honor those you lost, I can think of no better way than by helping to prevent future tragedies." Dropping Haruhi's hands, the woman reached into her purse, withdrew a gold business card holder, and selected one. Presenting it formally to the younger woman, she said, "Please consider it and, if you want to explore the idea, give me a call."

The empathy and genuine concern Kyoya's mother had shown made her hesitant to reject her outright. Taking the card, Haruhi nodded. "I will think it over, Ootori-san."

"Wonderful!" Naoko clapped her hands together delightedly. Moving to Haruhi's side, she linked arms with the younger woman's, and leaned in conspiratorially. "Now, I hate to do this to you but I must steal my son away to talk to some people." She started walking, tugging Haruhi along in her wake. "But, don't worry – I won't leave you alone. I have the perfect person for you to meet."

Kyoya's mother sailed effortlessly through the crowd, which seemed to part for her without her bidding. As they skirted around a pedestal, she gestured to the meter-high sculpture resting on it. "If you were wondering, Kyo-chan, all the art is for sale. I made sure to include a few pieces by that artist you like. The one who does those spiky, spirally things in glass that look like math equations."

Haruhi looked skeptically at the piece in question. Made out of what looked like black soapstone, it was tall and thin and cylindrical and looked _nothing_ like math. Then she caught a glimpse of the price and made a note to keep well out of 'accidently knocking over' range as possible. The walls. Hugging the walls would be an excellent decision if there were more of these things around.

"Perhaps I'll take a look at them later." Kyoya said with a disinterest undermined by the gleam in his eye. "Hopefully they're better than _that_ piece. It looks like a pen..."

"Oh, shush." Naoko cut him off. "I know very well what it looks like. It's supposed to represent the 'ephemeral and transitory nature of all things' or some such nonsense. But that artist is very popular right now, it will undoubtedly sell tonight."

"It _looks_ like it represents the 'ephemeral and transitory nature' of a rich, elderly husband's... stamina," Kyoya smirked, "But I suspect you're right, there's no accounting for taste."

"The only 'accounting' that matters to me is the one at the end of the night. At least the vulgarity of the piece is matched by the obscenity of the price tag." Naoko's steps slowed they neared a long table where people appeared to be watching a man throw dice. "Masahiro-sensei," she called out as they got close.

A handsome older gentleman, somewhere in his sixties or seventies, turned away from the side of the table. He smiled when he saw who approached him. "Naoko-san. Have I complimented you on your efforts yet? Another spectacular event."

"You flatter me. But please continue if you wish," she replied coquettishly, "Masahiro-sensei, I'd like to introduce you to someone." She gestured towards Haruhi. "But, perhaps you've already met? This is Fujioka Haruhi, I believe she's interning at your company. Haruhi-chan, my friend and fellow do-gooder, Saioji Masahiro."

Haruhi forced her mouth not to gape wide open as she came face-to-face with the senior partner of the law firm she'd start work at next week. _Kami!_ The man was at least six or seven levels above her lowly position. Probably more. It was all she could do not to stammer over her introduction.

"Fujioka-san is considering becoming a spokesperson for your foundation." Kyoya's mother breezed past any awkwardness as if it didn't exist. "Sadly, she shares a similar situation with you."

The man's eyes looked on Haruhi compassionately. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Who did you lose to that horrible disease? For me it was my youngest son."

"My… my father." Haruhi stammered out. "But, I haven't decided anything yet…" she added honestly.

Reaching out, he drew her hand in his and patted it familially. "Well, then, let's see if this Ojii-chan can convince you, please join me – have you ever played craps before?" When she shook her head, he beckoned her to take a place beside him at the table. "Then it will be my delight to teach you."

Naoko took Kyoya's arm the way she had Haruhi's. "I will leave her to your considerable persuasive talents, then. If you'll excuse me, I have a little mission for my son."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Kyoya scowled down at his mother. "What are you playing at, Okaa-san?"

"Unlike you, I've already stated my agenda outright. I really do think she would be make a fitting spokesperson – charming, attractive, and that doe-eyed quality that stirs the protective instincts in old men." She cast a side-long look at her son. "Never underestimate the power of a delightful young lady in relieving rich, old men of their money."

"Haruhi is a very private person. Talking about her father in front of strangers would be troublesome for her."

She smiled up at him slyly. "I see she's managed to stir your protective instincts as well." Her laugh rang out like a bell when his frown deepened further. "Don't fret so much." She patted his arm reassuringly. "If what Fuyumi has told me is true, _that_ is a young woman who can't be persuaded to do anything she doesn't want to. Please have some faith in me, I may push her out of her comfort zone but I wouldn't make anyone do something they hate."

"It just doesn't seem necessary," he muttered. Mother was meddling and, even though she was one of the only two members of his family he actually liked, he didn't appreciate it.

"Don't pout, Kyo-chan. It's unbecoming on a man your age. If I've taught you anything it's that charities are just another business – only what we sell is a way for people with too much money to assuage their feelings of guilt over having too much money. I may have married into it, but I'm enough of an Ootori to use any tools at my disposal to accomplish my goals - making the world a little better for those not born as fortunate as you."

He had nothing to say to that. What was it about parents that could make you feel like you were a misbehaving seven-year-old instead of an adult. Not that he had ever misbehaved much, even at seven.

His mother stopped near the wall, in an area clear of people. One of the uniformed waiters bearing trays of alcohol and food walked by and Kyoya dutifully grabbed two glasses of white wine, handing one to her.

"Besides," she said, eyes twinkling mischievously as she sipped her drink, "If she's to take her place in society, she'll need a pet charity to call her own."

Kyoya stiffened. "You are assuming too much."

"Am I?" She shook her head and gave a small 'tsk' of disappointment. "All you boys, you're so alike. Always scheming and plotting, just like your father. But, I've lived with him for thirty-five years and I can read all of you. Like. A. Book." Reaching up, she patted his cheek fondly. "She's a lovely young woman. I look forward to seeing how you manage to convince your father."

"Now," she said, rotating him to face a black jack table. "The American couple over there have a medical instrument research company based in Boston. Since you have something in common, I want you to convince them to further open up their hearts."

"And by that, you mean their wallets?"

"I wish you'd break that habit. Sarcasm is so ill-mannered." She gave him a slight push towards them. "I expect you to secure at least a five-million-yen donation. If you do, I promise _not_ to introduce your companion to some eligible young men who would no doubt appreciate her charms."

Kyoya cursed under his breath and strode towards his targets. Ootori Yoshio might be feared in boardrooms across Japan but he was quite certain that, of the two, it was his mother who was the most formidable.

* * *

An hour later, he stood against the wall sipping at another glass of the wine being freely passed around to keep the money flowing. After successfully 'opening the hearts' of the Andersons, his mother had continually dispatched him to persuade one patron after another to part with sums of money they found trivial and which would have had Haruhi choking on her wine.

Just the thought of her drew his eyes towards her like a moth to a flame. She was standing in an open area near the band, her skin glowing under the soft chandelier light, surrounded on all sides by men who appeared to be utterly entranced.

Good thing none of them was a day under seventy.

Pride swelled within him at how well she was getting on. It looked as if Saioji had introduced her to his friends, a cross-section of representatives from some of Tokyo's most high-powered legal firms. By the time the evening was over, every one of them would have noted her name as a promising young law student. And every one would be under the same spell she'd once cast on six poor-little-rich-boys. Seven, if you counted the head of Japan's most powerful crime syndicate.

"Kyoya." A hard, gravelly voice interrupted his thoughts. "Not assisting your mother's fundraising efforts?"

Carefully composing his face into a neutral expression, Kyoya acknowledged the older man who'd come up alongside him. "I'm merely taking a break, Otou-sama. Rest assured, I've been doing my duty as an Ootori."

The senior Ootori merely nodded and turned to survey the floor like a hunter searching for prey. "Is that the Fujioka woman?" He asked, nodding in Haruhi's direction.

Kyoya's senses moved to heightened alert. His father knew exactly who she was. Ootori Yoshio knew who _everyone_ in the room was and had already assessed, to the yen, how much each could benefit him.

That he'd asked the question meant he had an agenda.

"Yes," Kyoya replied succinctly. It was always better to force his father to be the one to bring up a topic rather than show your hand by babbling defensively. Similar to how one survived a hostile interrogation.

"Very pretty," Yoshio remarked in a way that flirted on the border of being disparaging. "Quite smart, too, I understand. Top of her class at Hokkaido University, top 25 on the legal exam. And she's landed a prestigious internship. Everything seems set for her to one day be acknowledged as one of the top lawyers in Tokyo."

Kyoya was not about to fall for such an obvious trap and kept his reply carefully noncommittal. "I suppose it's as you say."

His father stayed quiet for a moment, trying to draw his son out into the open. "Is it true?" he asked, his patience breaking first. Kyoya smiled inwardly at his victory. "The rumors floating around, I mean. That she's the mother of a Suoh bastard?"

"She does have a child, yes." The son replied idly, seeing no point in denying it. "But as to his parentage - that is a question better asked of Suoh. He's yet to make any formal acknowledgement."

Yoshio stared penetratingly at his son, looking for any cracks in the mask of indifference. Giving up, he turned back to gaze at Haruhi. "Pity. She seems an accomplished young woman." He made a show of appearing sympathetic. "But, of course, she'll never be fully accepted in our circles with that shame hanging over her head."

"Is there a point to this conversation," Kyoya smirked to needle his father further, "Or are you simply engaging in idle gossip like an old woman?"

"My point, Kyoya," Yoshio snapped, surrendering any pretense. "Is that no matter how beautiful, intelligent, or accomplished a person is, that alone is not enough to qualify them as a suitable spouse for an Ootori."

Kyoya stiffened and clamped his mask firmly in place. "Believe me, I am well aware of that."

"Don't get me wrong." Yoshio waved his hand magnanimously, "I have no objections to you having a liaison with her if you need to slake your… urges."

"How gracious of you." Kyoya's reply was drier than the wine he sipped.

"Don't be impertinent," the older man snarled, every line of his body taut with anger. "Not when, to all appearances, it seems you need a reminder that when I gave you permission to select your own marriage candidate it was with the expectation that you understood your obligations towards the family."

"Then let me reassure you, Otou-sama, that there is no cause for alarm." Kyoya forced himself to speak as mildly as he could, not betraying a single hint of the rage his father's aspersions on Haruhi's character ignited in him. "Haruhi considers me as nothing more than an old friend, she has no designs on the Ootori money or power." Yoshio settled back down, his ire soothed by his son's confirmation. Kyoya couldn't resist one last snide remark. "When I do select a wife, I assure you she will more than exceed your criteria."

Yoshio's face transformed instantly, his eyes taking on a speculative gleam. A sudden chill passed over Kyoya as it dawned on him that the entire conversation so far had been nothing but a pretense on his father's part. A play performed for an audience of one.

"I see." Looking from Kyoya to Haruhi and back again, the elder Ootori broke out in a broad grin, his granite face nearly cracking in two with the effort. "That is a very deep and very risky game you are playing. It will be interesting to see what comes of it."

Kyoya held his face still to the point of immobile, desperate to prevent from giving anything away to the man who always seemed to be two or three steps ahead of him. "I'm afraid I don't know what you are referring to."

Yoshio smirked. "As you say." He swept his arm back and pounded his son on the shoulder. "If you _do_ manage it, then you and I will have to have that discussion about your future with the Ootori group that you've always wanted." With that parting shot, he snagged a glass of wine from a server and stalked off to pounce on another unsuspecting victim.

Kyoya stared at his father's back as he retreated. Dammit! He had revealed far more than he wanted to. Enough that Yoshio had managed to draw the right conclusions about his son's intentions, even if he was wrong about the motives.

That could only complicate things.

Spying two young men gearing up the nerve to brave the guard of powerful men surrounding Haruhi, Kyoya shrugged off the encounter with his father and went to intercept. It was time to make sure people were aware of who she came with. And who she'd be leaving with - tonight, and every night hereafter.

Let his father think what he wanted. It was enough that he and Tamaki knew the truth.

* * *

"That was…. _insane."_ Haruhi slammed down a cup of sake and held it out for Kyoya to refill it. The movement made the edges of the room waver. She wasn't drunk – not even close. But between the wine at the party at the sake she was… tipsy. That was it, just a bit tipsy. "I can't believe I spent the whole evening talking to my boss's boss. No – to my boss's, boss's, boss's, _boss's,_ boss!"

"I think you may have missed a 'boss' in there." Kyoya chuckled and topped her off again. This one Haruhi sipped at, the lack of food along with the alcohol was making her a little dizzy. And talkative.

She'd been so busy being introduced to people she hadn't had a chance to do more than nibble the occasional hors d'oeuvre before it moved away out of her reach. When Kyoya had found that out, he took her to an izakaya for some food before returning home.

Eating bar food in an evening gown with the Shadow King across from her only added to the surrealness of the evening.

"Whatever, Sempai." She ignored his look of reproof and nibbled at her yakitori. "The point is, what normal person does that?"

Folding his hands over each other, he leaned forward and rested his chin on them. "Haruhi, you may be a commoner, but no one would describe you as anything other than extraordinary."

She rolled her eyes at the meaningless flattery. He must have forgotten to turn off his 'host' mode.

"I'm surprised," he remarked, sitting back in his chair when she failed to respond, "You've never been one to care much about someone's social status before."

"Not when it's just idiots who think they're better than me because of their family's wealth." She dismissed a good section of the people she'd met at Ouran with a wave of her hand. "But I'm not blind to the gap between a Senior Partner and an Intern who hasn't even started yet. Most women in my position would only ever see Saioji-sensei if they were serving tea at a meeting."

"At least now you are in little danger of being the tea lady, even if you wind up being the only female in your internship group." He looked like he was laughing at her, but his smile and eyes were too soft to be a smirk.

Wow. He had really pretty eyes, didn't he? She'd never noticed before. If he didn't wear glasses, he'd be beating women off with a stick. Well, he was handsome and rich – he probably had to beat them off already. Or not. Maybe he welcomed them?

She needed to eat more. She was starting to feel queasy.

A tiny bit of doubt niggled at her, increasing her nausea. Her chopsticks stilled in the act of pulling a croquette onto her plate. "Did you really have nothing to do with my internship?"

"Nothing at all," he replied. Was it her imagination, or did he look faintly disappointed that she'd asked? "Nor any member of my family. I value our friendship too much to manipulate you like that."

She snorted.

"Very well." Even the 'cool' type host himself was having a hard time keeping his face straight after that blatant untruth. "I value our friendship too much too manipulate you _covertly_."

"Now that I can believe," she laughed.

A smile briefly bloomed on his face before it disappeared and his expression turned serious. "Speaking of manipulation, I had no idea my mother was planning to blind side you like that. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable. You are under no obligation."

"I know that," she said noncommittally, taking another sip of her drink and looking away.

His eyes narrowed assessingly. "Saioji got to you, didn't he?"

"It's just so sad," she admitted, "Losing a child at such a young age. And I didn't realize how difficult it is for liver cancer to get the attention it needs. Most people just dismiss it as a disease of alcoholics or drug addicts." Her lips firmed into a think line as she remembered some of the stories Saioji had told her. "People act like those who have it somehow deserve it!"

"You're thinking of volunteering." It didn't sound like a question.

"Maybe. But definitely not as a spokesperson." Her breath came out on a small sigh and she shrugged. "I'm really not sure how much help someone like me would be – but I'm beginning to feel like if there is something I can do, then I should."

Kyoya didn't say anything, he just looked at her with the weirdest expression on his face. "What?" She surreptitiously brushed at her face in case a piece of food had stuck there.

"Nothing." He shook his head as if shaking something off. "Just thinking that my mother was right about you. But, she's always been a very good judge of character."

"You care about her a great deal, don't you? None of your siblings were there tonight, so you didn't _have_ to go. You wanted to."

"Sometimes I forget how observant you are," he replied, poking dubiously at the piece of beef tongue on his plate. For a minute, Haruhi though he wouldn't say more, but then he sighed and put aside his chopsticks. "Yes. I do. She and Fuyumi are perhaps the only family members who care about _me_ and not what I can do for the family. If I threw away everything to go paint shirtless on a beach somewhere, they would only care that I was happy."

"I think I'd like to see that."

"Me shirtless?" He smirked.

"No," said her mouth. 'Yes!' screamed her long neglected libido. She stared into her cup and pushed the image her brain kept trying to form aside. It was probably time to put down the sake.

"No," she reiterated. "You happy. As long as I've known you, I don't think you've ever just been 'happy' with your life."

He lifted an eyebrow and deflected the topic. "And what about you? Are you happy?"

"I… don't know." It wasn't a question she'd asked herself in a long time. Maybe ever. The answer she'd blurted out surprised her. "I should be. I have an amazing son, good friends, and I'm on the way to achieving my dream career. And it's not that I'm unhappy it's just…"

"That sometimes you realize there's a hole in you that nothing seems to fill." Meeting his eyes, she almost gasped at the depth of pain revealed in them before he quickly shuttered them again.

"Perhaps it's just not in my nature," he added wryly, "A genetic predisposition towards being discontent." Kyoya drained his sake cup in one gulp and she refilled it for him. Although, perhaps they should both lay off. Maudlin didn't suit him.

"I don't think that's true. I think you're just… still looking," she replied. His lips twitched at some secret joke that he didn't share. "I suppose Mori-sempai would say that it's looking that's the problem. That happiness can only be found within one's self."

"I'm sure he would. Mori can be annoyingly Buddhist about some things." Kyoya's smile broadened and eyes gentled, as if including her in on his secret. "Well then, here's hoping we both find what we're looking for." Picking up his cup, he held it out towards her. "To Happiness."

A flicker of warmth curled around her chest and she smiled back. "Why not?" She lifted her cup and clinked it against his. "To Happiness."

A thought from the recesses of her mind rose up to ask if, maybe, happiness wasn't closer than she realized.


	16. Normal

Normal.

Haruhi added some hot dog octopi to the already over-packed three-tiered bento box and decided _that_ word summed up the entirety of her hopes for today's outing. With all that had happened in the last week she felt a bit like Alice slipping through the looking glass - although in her case it was more like having been forcibly shoved through it by a bespectacled, evil wizard.

What she wanted, what she needed, was just one patch of normalcy in the sea of surreality her life had become.

Today she wanted no brand-new houses bigger than an apartment complex. No expensive wardrobes or sudden offers of domestic help. No emotional breakdowns. No 'networking opportunities' with senior partners or getting drunk with manipulative, rich bastards. (Tipsy! She'd only gotten tipsy!) And no, absolutely no, unexpected marriage proposals from old friends.

She was setting the bar for 'normal' pretty damn low.

"Mama! Mama! They're here!" Daiki shouted from the living room. His nose had been pressed against the front window in anticipation for the last thirty minutes.

"I'll be there in a minute, Dai-chan." Removing her apron, she lightly dusted off the emerald green tunic and black stretch pants she'd selected. Hikaru hadn't provided much to go on about their activities for today aside from a vague 'something outside.' Not that anything he said would have made much difference to her wardrobe – 'comfortable' and 'washable' were her key considerations for any day spent with an exuberant kindergartner.

Sealing the lid on the _bento,_ she wrapped it in cloth and slipped it into a navy, carryall bag along with a few bottles of water and juice. She just made it out to the entry way when the doorbell rang. And then rang again. And again. Like a certain grown-up 'little devil type' was leaning on it.

' _Normal,'_ she muttered under her breath, repeating it three times like a prayer.

Daiki, already bundled up in his beloved Hokkaido Nippon-Ham Fighters cap and jacket, jumped up from securing the Velcro fasteners on his shoes, unlocked the door and threw it open while shouting his greeting to the red-headed pair standing on the doorstep.

"Morning Ki-chan," Hikaru said, ruffling Daiki's hair.

"Good morning, Dai-chan," Ageha exhaled breathily with a tone and expression that reminded Haruhi of Tamaki's more fervent fans.

Hikaru's smile briefly turned into a pained grimace, but he shook it off and locked eyes with the budding heart-throb's mother. "You guys ready?"

"I just need to get my coat." She opened the closet and pulled out her familiar, silver parka out of habit. As she shrugged it on, she caught sight of Hikaru's face. Every line of it radiated an expression best described as 'OhDearGodNoPleaseDon'tWearThat!' He didn't say a word, but if he clenched his jaw any tighter he'd be in danger of breaking his teeth.

Turning away so he couldn't see, Haruhi snorted and impulsively decided to reward him for his uncharacteristic restraint. "I think it might be too warm for this," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear and shrugged off the worn-out coat.

His jaw relaxed and eyes lit up with approval when she put on her next selection, a light-gray wool coat that his brother had sneakily slipped into the pile of clothes he'd sent her home with. Secretly, she had to admit it did feel more comfortable than the parka. The day really was too nice for her Sapporo weather-rated clothing.

Grabbing the carryall, she ushered Daiki out the door and turned to lock it. "You know," Haruhi drawled as she turned the key, "If you're afraid of Kaoru's fangirls, you probably should dress less conspicuously."

Unlike her, Hikaru and Ageha were both dressed as if any minute they expected a photographer to jump out and snap their photo for some 'hottest street fashion' section in a magazine. His black top, black jeans, and dark gray wide-collared jacket only emphasized his auburn hair, whisky eyes, and model-worthy body.

"Don't worry, I have a secret weapon." Hikaru pulled a pair of mirrored sunglasses from his pocket, put them on, and spread his hands out in a 'ta da' pose. "See, totally incognito."

Haruhi choked on her laugh, the glasses just made him look even more like a J-pop idol. The faint hopes she'd have for a normal day wafted away like smoke – all she could wish for now is that they wouldn't spend the day being mobbed by fanatical teenagers.

"Dai-chan," Ageha trilled, "Do you like my outfit?" She stuffed both her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket and gave a little twirl, casting a look over her shoulder as she did so that was about ten years too old for her.

"Ano… ano…" Daiki eyes grew wide as saucers when unexpectedly confronted with a situation that had defeated many older and more experienced males before him.

HIkaru, mischief lighting his eyes, leaned down and whispered audibly into the boy's ear from behind his hand. "Hint – she looks cute. They _always_ look cute."

"You look cute, Ageha-chan," Daiki said dutifully, "But won't it be hard to play in that?" He gestured towards her black, sparkly, tulle skirt.

"Silly, that's why I have these on," she replied and stretched out a leg covered in leopard print leggings and ending in a bright pink cowboy boot.

"Always look cute, huh?" Haruhi muttered wryly to the elder Hiitachiin, "I don't remember you guys ever saying that about my outfits."

"That's because most of them were hideous!" He responded unashamedly. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he leaned towards her and his breath brushed against her ear. "But no matter how ugly the clothes, I always thought you looked cute." Plucking the carryall from her suddenly unresisting hands he winked and nonchalantly strolled away to talk with the driver.

Haruhi felt warmth bloom on her cheeks that didn't seem to have much to do with the sun. What was wrong with her lately? The twins had always flirted with her, even before she understood what it was they were doing. They flirted with everybody – including each other. It was meaningless. Something that came as natural to them as breathing. But she'd never actually _responded_ to it. She'd never responded to anyone's flirting.

Except Tamaki's.

And then, after he died…. Well, for the last five years she'd been as celibate in thought and deed as a Buddhist nun. Lately, though, she couldn't seem to stop _noticing_ things – Kyoya's eyes, the broad planes of Hikaru's back, even the radiant smile of the college kid who'd bagged her groceries yesterday. It was as if moving south had started to thaw the permafrost she'd encased around her heart and body. And now her dormant libido had starting shooting small, tender buds up to desperately soaking in whatever nourishment they could find and remind her that she was still young. Still alive. Still a woman.

Shaking her head against the troublesome direction of her thoughts, she made a pretense of observing the two children as they chattered with each other like magpies. From the corner of her eye, she saw the Hitachiin chauffeur get back in the car that had delivered the siblings, start it up, and drive away.

Hikaru loped back to her, a lazy grin on his face. "It's a nice day, I thought we could walk and take the train."

She blinked slowly. Once. Twice. "Who are you and what have you done with Hikaru?" she deadpanned.

"Oh come on!" Hikaru held up his hands in mock outrage. "Don't you remember? I _like_ doing commoner things."

Crossing her arms in front of her chest she lifted an eyebrow at him. "The fact that you just said that proves my point."

"All right, all right. I freely confess to having been an entitled little shit back in high school. " Laughing, he ran one hand through his hair, turning it into a rumpled mess that managed to make him look even more like he'd stepped out of the pages of a magazine. "You know, I _do_ know how to get around town without a limo. When Kao and I first moved to New York we sunk all our money into our businesses. We couldn't afford full-time servants and traffic there is so bad, the subway is usually the fastest way to get anywhere."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and he quickly arranged his features into one of injured innocence. It was such an incongruous expression on his face that her lips twitched with suppressed laughter. He was probably up to some kind of mischief. When wasn't he? That was practically a default state of being. But, even so – did she really mind? Reminding herself that 'normal' was the watchword, she shrugged. "Whatever. Just don't expect me to play tour guide to the exotic habits of the Japanese middle class."

Hikaru laughed and linked his arm in hers. "Oi, munchkins!" he called out over his shoulder, "let's head out."

As they walked down the driveway, he felt so light and buoyant he had to suppress the urge to dance. All week, Kaoru and Stefan had helped him carefully lay out his plans for _'Operation: Win Haruhi's Heart.'_ Between the beautiful spring day, the girl he loved on his arm, and the two kids trailing along behind him it seemed _'Phase 1 – Typical Middle Class Family Outing'_ was off to a great start.

Haruhi abrupt stop on the sidewalk pulled him up short. She looked up at him, amusement in her eyes. "There are two train stations. You didn't say where we're going."

"I was thinking the Itabashi Children's Zoo," Hikaru said as if he hadn't researched the topic for days.

Haruhi's smile brightened the already sunny day. "Oh! I haven't been there since I was a child. My mother used to take me whenever the weather was nice and she had a weekend off."

"I think the kids will like it," Hikaru replied, heroically restraining from punching the air in triumph. ' _Step 1,'_ he thought, ' _Find a commoner place where there would be no memories of_ tono. _CHECK!'_

* * *

"Dai-chan, I'm scared. I've never been on the subway before." Ageha clutched her companion's arm tightly as they stood on the train platform and rubbed her cheek against his sleeve like a cat marking its territory.

Daiki dutifully linked his hand with hers. "Don't worry, Ageha-chan. The subway's fun! I've been on it lots of times."

Behind them, Hikaru glared at the back of the little boy's head. "I like Ki-chan," he muttered under his breath to the woman beside him. "But if Ageha starts to like him more than me, there's going to be trouble."

"Sis-con," Haruhi coughed.

Now the glare turned on her, which only increased her laughter. "You realize this just makes me more determined to get you to marry me so she'll be his aunt." His lips pressed together in a thin line. "Gotta nip this sort of thing in the bud."

Haruhi arched one eyebrow at him. "Because you Hitachiins are so good about avoiding the appearance of incest?"

His eyes widened in panic. "Shi.." He looked at the two little pitchers standing in front of him and quickly elided his vowels. "..oot. You're right – the lure of the forbidden would be too much. Maybe Kaoru and I can convince Mom to enroll her in St. Lobelia's. A nice all-girl school could be just the thing."

Haruhi pursed her lips in consideration and nodded. "Great idea. Then she can become a fan of the Zuka Club. Or a member."

"Dam…rn it!" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a second and then his eyes lit up with glee. "I know – convent school. In Switzerland. That is definitely the best way to keep her away from bo…" Haruhi's shoulders were shaking as she tried to keep her laughter in. "…I mean it would be the best educational experience for her."

Haruhi released her laugh with a sputter. "Idiot."

As the train pulled up, he draped his arm over her shoulder and replied, "That's what you love about me."

"Get off me, moron." She pushed his arm away, but her smile took any sting out of her words.

The train was crowded, but Hikaru somehow managed to keep the little group together. Finding an empty seat next to one of the doors, he motioned for the two kids to climb up and share it. "Please excuse us for troubling you." He smiled an apology the elderly lady occupying the seat next to it. "These two are very lively."

The old woman flushed and tittered back like a school girl. "No. No. It's no trouble." She waived away his apology. "You have such cute and obedient children." She rooted in her purse and came up with two sweets and, with a silent inquiry to Haruhi asking for permission, gave them to her seatmates.

Haruhi refrained from shaking her head. These Host Club boys really were too charming for their own good. And Daiki, who was doing his best to look 'cute and obedient' in hopes of more candy wasn't much better.

"Here, hold this." Hikaru handed her the bag with their lunch, placed his hands on her shoulders and maneuvered her into the corner between the seat and the door. Lifting one hand to hold on to the railing, he braced the other against the door to form a protective cage around her.

Protective and too damn close.

So close that his scent, a mix of spice and exotic wood, filled the air between them and tickled her nose. So close that she could feel the warmth radiating off him. So close that, whenever the train shuddered around a curve, it was impossible for her to take her eyes off how the muscles of his chest flexed underneath the tight t-shirt.

She looked up and found him watching her, his smirk saying he knew exactly where she'd been looking. "Shouldn't you have kept those on?" she asked, nodding at the sunglasses he'd removed and hung off his shirt collar and hoping he'd believe that had been the focus of her attention.

His smile said he wasn't fooled. "Nah, the glasses aren't my real disguise." He tilted his head towards Daiki and Ageha. "People will see those two and just assume I'm just a guy out for a weekend with his family and dismiss the resemblance to a certain notoriously single designer-slash-supermodel."

Haruhi looked between the two kids, each of whom resembled one of the adults standing next to them, and realized he was right. They really did look like a family. From the way some of the older women on the train were looking at them with approving eyes and gossiping to each other behind their hands, she wasn't the only person who thought so.

Would this be what a future with him would be like? That is, if circumstances ever forced her to take him up on the offer he'd made out of friendship? Would it be a life filled with simple, family moments? This type of activity was the last thing she would have envisioned Hikaru enjoying. But, maybe she was wrong? Peering back up at him, she got caught in golden eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Besides, who's going to be looking at me when I have such a beautiful wife by my side?" He asked, giving her such a lazy, sensuous wink she immediately felt a flush rising from her neck all the way to the roots of her hair.

' _Damn, stupid, inconvenient, troublesome libido!'_ thought one person.

' _Step 2: Keep increasing her awareness of me . CHECK!'_ thought the second.

* * *

"But the line is so loooong!" Ageha's tone walked the thin line between cajoling and whiny as she pulled on her brother's hand. Widening her eyes to puppy-dog pleading levels she batted her eyelashes. "Oniiiiiii-chaaaaan, I want to pet the guinea pigs now!"

"Sorry Ageha-hime, but we have to wait our turn," he replied with more patience than Haruhi would have credited him with.

"Why can't we just go to the front?" Haruhi could hear the tell-tale signs of an incipient tantrum, which was confirmed by the next word out of the child's mouth. "When _nanny_ takes me places we don't have to wait."

"Kaoru and I have told you, when you're out with us we don't do things like that. It wouldn't be fair to all the other people who are waiting." Hikaru crouched down and looked his little sister firmly in the eye. "What did I say about acting spoiled today?"

"That if I did, you wouldn't buy me ice cream." Ageha's lower lip jutted out and her eyes took on a mutinous glare. "I can just tell nanny to get me some when I get home."

"Uh uh." He shook his head back and forth slowly. "I've already told her and all the other servants not to give you dessert unless I say it's okay."

The little girl glared up at her brother, torn between getting her way and getting a treat.

"Ageha-chan," interjected Daiki, ever the peacemaker, "Let's go look at the bunnies while we wait." He grabbed her hand and turned his killer puppy-dog eyes up to the adults. "Mama, Hika-ji, is that okay?"

Since the rabbits were barely five meters away from the line neither adult had a problem with it and they gave permission.

"You handled her pretty well," Haruhi complimented him when they were out of earshot.

"You really think so? Mom and Dad tend to view parenting as a 'drop-in' activity so whenever we're here, Kaoru and I try to provide her with some boundaries." He sent a mental thanks to Stefan, oldest brother of seven, for the quick primer in 'parenting' language.

"From what I can see, you're doing a good job. I know just how hard it is not to give in to them when they pull out the pleading eyes." The soft look of impressed pride on her face made him feel a hundred meters tall. "She's lucky to have you as a brother."

Hikaru could feel his smile broaden to what had to be a goofy grin. Possibly even soppy. Changing the subject, he made a mental note to double Ageha's ice cream as a reward for how well she'd played her part. She'd definitely inherited his and Kaoru's acting ability.

' _Step 3: Display good parenting skills. CHECK!'_

The day was going better than he could have possibly imagined. At this rate, it wouldn't be too long before he convinced her that he could be exactly the kind of man she wanted.

* * *

"Did you have fun today, Dai-chan?" Haruhi tucked the blanket around her son and bent down to kiss his forehead.

"Umm hmm. Hika-ji is lots of fun," he mumbled sleepily. Between the zoo, the playground, and the two subway rides he'd barely managed to keep his eyes open during bath time. "Ageha-chan's nice, but kind of bossy. She got mad 'cause I wanted to climb instead of swing and said that when we grow up I have to marry her and then I'll have to do everything she says."

Haruhi tried not to laugh and smoothed his hair back from his face with the palm of her hand. "First, when you grow up you can marry anyone you want to." _Even Takeru-kun_ she added to herself. "And second, marriage doesn't work like that. When you love someone, you take turns listening to what the other wants. You don't always get your way and neither do they – you meet somewhere in the middle where you're both happy."

Daiki pursed his mouth and digested this. "Is that how it was with you and Papa?" His eyes widened and he gave a small gasp as the question left his lips. As if he were saying something forbidden.

Her heart clutched at the fear in his eyes. She wasn't blind - she'd seen the ways he carefully avoided asking about his father, even when curious. He was such an unusually sensitive child, always trying to spare her from confronting the ghosts of the past. But here in Tokyo, memories surrounded her on all sides and could no longer be avoided.

And he, more than anyone, deserved the answers.

"Yes, it was." She gave him another kiss on the head and ruffled his hair. "Now, go to sleep. We can talk more about your Papa in the morning."

"Really?" The hopeful lilt of his voice made her feelings of guilt even worse. He stifled a large yawn and his eyes fluttered closed.

"Really, really," she answered and turned off the light.

She had some reading left to do before class tomorrow, so she headed downstairs. Carefully keeping her thoughts neutral, she made herself a cup of tea to take with her to the room she was treating as a study. Eschewing the desk, she sat down in a comfortable leather chair and tucked her feet up under her while she sipped her drink.

Only now did she let herself think.

These past ten days had been crazy, over-the-top, filled with a roller coaster of experiences and emotions. But, somehow, through all of that something about her had changed. Tonight, when Daiki had mentioned his father, she'd waited for the sharp, gut-wrenching pain that always accompanied her thoughts of the golden-haired boy she'd loved.

But it hadn't come.

The grief she'd grown accustomed to was still there, but softened. Dulled. More of an absence than an ache. A feeling that something was missing, like probing for a tooth that had been pulled. Not the knife-like pain of touching your tongue to an infected molar.

Maybe her life in Sapporo had been, in its own way, just as abnormal as her life here. All those years she'd been gone, she'd hoarded her pain and loss like a treasure, afraid to let it go. Afraid doing so would weaken her. But now her body and mind were telling her that the walls of ice she'd built to protect herself were no longer needed. That it was time to let them melt.

Today, laughing and joking with one of her best friends, she'd started to see the traces of the girl she'd once been emerging from beneath melting snow. The 'her' she'd thought long dead had turned out to only be sleeping. Simply waiting for the winter to pass. And no winter could last forever, no matter how hard you clung to it. Eventually spring would come and that was perfectly…

Normal.


	17. Trust

"Dai-chan! Dai-chan, where do you think you're going!?" Haruhi's aggravated shout had no impact on the accelerating red-and-denim blur that raced passed Kyoya and booked down the driveway towards the open gate as fast as its legs could carry it. With a tilt of his head, Kyoya signaled his driver. Tachibana immediately put the boxes in his hand back in the trunk and loped off after the escaping miscreant.

Turning back towards the house, Kyoya suppressed a chuckle at the sight of Haruhi hopping on one foot while trying to put her shoe on with the other. She'd been home long enough to change out of work clothes into blue striped lounge pants, a thin white t-shirt and, God help him, no bra.

"Fujioka Daiki, you get back here this instant!" she commanded the boy who was already at least half a block away.

The struggle to wrestle her sneaker onto her foot took her perilously close to the edge of the steps. Desperate to stop her momentum, she hopped backwards - which only resulted in overbalancing. Throwing her arms out to the side, she tottered precariously on the edge for a second before gravity won out and pulled her towards the ground.

Kyoya stepped forward just in time to catch her.

He held her for a heartbeat. And another. He really should let her go, but his hands refused to follow the orders his brain was giving. It felt too good to have her there, with her face cushioned against his chest, for him to do the rational thing. She fit the convex space between his arms as if she belonged there.

Haruhi shook her head against the disorientation she felt when what she'd expected to be a hard 'splat' turned into a gentler 'thud.' Pushing back against her warm, firm landing spot she looked up at her rescuer and blinked slowly. Kyoya? What was he doing here? It was only Tuesday. Their next 'networking opportunity' – an art auction for the Ouran Scholarship Fund – wasn't until Friday.

"Sempai, why are you…" She stopped herself, that really wasn't what she cared about right now. She pushed harder against his chest until she'd regained her footing enough for him to safely let her go. "Never mind, I need to go after Dai-chan." She turned and took a few steps towards the gate but a hand around her upper arm stopped her, holding her firmly in place.

"Tachibana-kun is following after him and will let us know when he runs out of energy and goes to ground." She looked back at him and he dropped his hand. "Would it help to talk about it?" He asked softly, as if already expecting her to reject the offer. "You look like you could use a friend."

The words, 'I'm fine' rose to her lips and she swallowed them. They were a lie that even Hikaru at sixteen would have been able to see through. One of the many things they hadn't told her about being a parent was just how often she'd feel out of her depth. Having a small, innocent being looking to her for protection and guidance sometimes threw her into a state of worry, guilt, and enough desperation to turn to almost _anyone_ for advice. Besides, it might not be that bad an idea to talk with the Shadow King – there were certain things he was an expert in.

But that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Oh, what the hell. It's not like you won't figure it out on your own anyway." She knew it wasn't fair to scowl at him, but she couldn't help it. Choosing to hide it instead, she turned around and headed inside, still a little angry with herself for giving in. "Come in, I'll make some tea while we wait. Dai-chan has a _lot_ of energy."

Kyoya's eyes followed her as she stomped up the stairs. Her irritation at having lost the internal struggle to handle things on her own was just too cute – he needed a second or two to tuck away his smile.

She led him back to the family kitchen that was separated from the more formal entertaining areas by sliding shoji screens. Kyoya dropped obediently into a seat at the kitchen table while she started boiling water. He sat in silence, knowing she was using the familiar ritual to compose herself.

Unlike the living and dining area, which were virtually unchanged from when she'd moved in, this room showed signs that the Fujiokas had made it their own. It was full of small touches that transformed the once magazine-perfect room into a place that was lived-in. A place you could call home.

The table had been shrunk from one that could seat ten to an intimate size barely big enough for four. In the center a glass of clumsily picked daisies sat on top of a paper doily covered in swirling lines of crayon. Kyoya could almost picture Daiki sitting here after school, his dark hair bowed over homework, while Haruhi put together a simple dinner for the two of them. Unbidden, a third person joined his vision – a raven-haired man who sat next to the boy, calmly walking him through the process of addition and subtraction.

Forcing his eyes away from that dangerous daydream, he moved them around the rest of the kitchen. A colander of freshly-washed strawberries sat on the counter dividing the cooking from the eating area. Their small, uneven size made him think they might have been hand-picked at one of the farms just outside of Tokyo. The window sill over the sink was cluttered with herbs growing in finger-painted pots and a weirdly-shaped pentagram made of sticks, yarn, and glitter twisted in the air above them, sparkling in the light.

The back counter was occupied by Haruhi and he took a minute to appreciate the precise, graceful movements she made as she pulled dishes down from the overhead cupboards. Then his mind sternly warned him that _this_ was the most dangerous daydream of them all and he reluctantly moved his gaze left to the sleek, stainless steel refrigerator drowning in bright alphabet magnets, childish drawings, coupons, neighborhood flyers, a grocery list and a large whiteboard calendar covered in dense, multi-colored writing.

"What's the orange for?" he asked.

Haruhi jumped a little when his question intruded into her thoughts. "The orange?"

"On the calendar." He nodded towards it. "Next week's trip to see the cherry blossoms in Hirosaki is in pink, so that must be for the Host Club. The black matches the days I've invited you to accompany me to an event. I presume red is for school and work assignments. So, what's orange?"

"That's for dinners with Honey and Reiko. Mori and Hana usually come too."

She lifted the lid off the teapot and put in the leaves to steep. Kyoya noted with a little curl of pleasure that she was using the _sencha_ he'd given her for a housewarming present. He'd gambled that her inner glutton would win out over her middle-class reluctance to accept expensive presents. "And the blue?"

"Dai-chan's activities. Play-dates, school events, that sort of thing." She rolled her eyes at him. "And before you ask, green is for the twins and purple for the Suohs."

He gave a detached nod, but frowned the minute she turned her back to him to pour the tea. There was starting to be more green than black on the calendar. He'd have to do something about that.

She clunked a cup of tea in front of him and took a seat. Wrapping both hands around her drink, she took a sip and set it back down. "So, why _are_ you here, Kyoya?" she asked with enough disinterest he knew it was simply a way to work up to the main topic.

He really shouldn't feel so pleased that she'd dropped the 'sempai' she'd reverted to earlier. The first couple of weeks, she'd insisted on trying to call him 'Kyoya-kun' or 'Kyoya-san.' She'd finally given up when he pointed out it was a bit ridiculous to insist on the formality when the rest of her friends used his name freely.

He took his own sip before replying, taking a second to savor it. Even distressed, she still made a perfect cup of tea. "You volunteered to fold invitations for the Liver Cancer Foundation's annual gala. Okaa-san dropped by my office today and asked me to bring them to you." Mother was interfering – but he wouldn't be upset with it as long as her efforts aligned with his own goals.

"Oh. I'd forgotten about that. Thank you." She took another sip, set the cup on the table and traced patterns on the wood with her finger. Stalling.

"Haruhi." He put just enough authority in his tone that she instinctively looked at him. "If you'd prefer to talk with someone else, I can call one of the others. It doesn't have to be me."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh! No. No, it's not that," she said firmly. "It's just…" She shrugged one shoulder to silently say that it was the conversation itself that was troubling her, not her companion. She hesitated another couple seconds before finally blurting out, "Dai-chan got into another fight today. Two boys, this time!"

Kyoya hid his surprise. Not at the fight, but that it hadn't occurred sooner. "Did he win?"

Haruhi shot him a glare. "Is that really the point, here?"

"No, but it's an obvious question," he replied unrepentantly.

She let out her breathe in a huff that blew her bangs up off her face. "I don't think any of them won. The teacher stopped it before it could get started." Her shoulder's fell and she shrunk under the weight of her worries. "I… I just don't know what's gotten into him lately. First the fight at his pre-school, now this! He was always such an obedient child – energetic, but good-hearted."

"He's still good-natured," Kyoya reassured, "Wasn't the fight last time because his friend was being bullied? I'm sure this has a similar root cause."

"I'd like to think so, but he won't talk about it. When I tried to press the issue…" She swept her arm in the general direction of the front door. "Well, you saw what happened."

Her face took on a far-away expression. "I can't help thinking that letting him attend Ouran was a mistake. Even though it's only been a month, he's… _changed_. He used to tell me everything. Heck, most of the time it was hard to get him to _stop_ talking. But since the first day, he's just been quieter and quieter about school."

"You suspect he's being bullied."

"It does seem to fit, doesn't it? His teacher says she hasn't noticed anything wrong, but…"

The corner of his mouth quirked up sardonically. "But who is going to admit that the grandson of the Chairman is having difficulty in their classroom?"

"I just wish he'd _talk_ to me," she sighed.

Kyoya prudently said nothing and took another sip of tea.

"What's that smile for, Kyoya? It's creepy, cut it out."

His smile broadened. "I was just thinking that Daiki-kun is very much like his mother."

"Really?" she asked incredulously, "Most people say he's like his father – even those who never met Tamaki."

Kyoya chuckled. "He's that too. But right now, I'm thinking of a girl who never told her father she was afraid of thunder, who arranged for a scholarship to the country's most prestigious school without his help, and who forced the burden of keeping him informed about her activities on to the vice president of her club."

"You think he just doesn't want to worry me? But… but that's ridiculous!" she exclaimed, "I'm his mother! It's my job to worry about him!"

He quirked one eyebrow at her.

The words she was saying penetrated her brain and she slumped forward, burying her head in her hands with a groan that turned into a humorless chuckle. "Oh, God! This is divine punishment for how I treated my dad isn't it!"

He didn't laugh, but it was a hard fight. "I think there's a simpler explanation. All that time around the Host Club and you never seemed to grasp just how fragile the male ego can be. There are things boys, no matter their age, don't want to tell the women they love."

"Even their mothers?" she asked skeptically.

" _Especially_ their mothers." He held up a hand to ward off her protest. "I didn't say it was logical. I freely admit that our tender egos can be ridiculous things – but the desire to be seen as the protector and not the victim starts young."

Haruhi propped her head on one hand. Behind her eyes, he could see her processing what he'd said. Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she pushed herself back to sit straight up and looked at him with an expression calculating enough to do an Ootori proud. "What about you?"

He paused half-way through raising his cup to his lips. "What about me _what_?"

"You're a guy and he likes you. I've read that sometimes children find it easier to talk about their troubles with someone who isn't a parent or teacher."

Kyoya's chest swelled to the point he thought it would burst. She was offering to trust him with her son. With her and _Tamaki's_ son. He couldn't feel prouder. Or more terrified.

Already, she was beginning to look doubtful and started to retreat. "Sorry. It was just an idea, I don't want to bother…"

"Haruhi," he cut her off sharply, "I will _never_ consider helping Daiki-kun to be burdensome." Once he saw the doubt clear from her face he continued more gently, "If you are okay that it's me, I'd be honored to talk with him."

Her relieved smile was brighter than the sun. And like the sun, he couldn't look at it without being blinded. This must be what commoners felt like when they won the lottery. A shadow suddenly crossed over her face and she grew nervous, worrying at her bottom lip. "Just… ano… if he _is_ being bullied… Well, you know that they're just kindergartners, right?"

Amused at her allegation, he deliberately gave her his scariest smile – the one so broad that his eyes nearly disappeared. "Haruhi, we really do need to have a serious discussion about how your inner workings perceive my character one of these days."

* * *

Kyoya found Daiki sitting on a swing in the local playground staring forlornly at the ground and slowly hollowing out a cave in the play chips by repeatedly stubbing his toe into them.

Signaling to Tachibana to remain on guard where he was, hovering just outside the gate into the walled off area, he strode towards the swing set. The chips under his feet crunched loud enough for him to be certain the boy was aware of his presence. Wrapping his hands around the chains, he gingerly lowered himself to perch on the swing next to the child. The seat, made for people at least fifteen years younger and half his weight, trembled precariously.

They sat together quietly, two figures side by side in the growing dusk, while the minutes ticked past. Experience told Kyoya that letting silence stretch until the other person felt forced to fill it was a tactic that would work just as well when dealing with a misbehaving five-year-old as it did when negotiating a business deal.

Experience didn't warn him that five-year-olds were harder to break.

"They called her a whore!" Daiki's angry sob shattered the stillness.

Kyoya's jaw clenched but he forced himself to remain calm. "You're mother?"

The boy nodded. "They said she was nothing but a common… a commoner whore. But. She's. Not."

"Do you even know what that word means?" Kyoya asked cautiously, knowing he was on treacherous ground.

"Uh huh. When the guy who lived next to us got mad he'd call his girlfriend that. You could hear him through the walls. Thomas-kun said it meant a girl who kissed lots of different guys at the same time." Daiki started shaking his head so vigorously the swing twisted. "Mama doesn't do that. She doesn't kiss anyone but me and I don't think that counts."

"No, it doesn't count." A part of Kyoya heaved a sigh of relief that the child's innocence hadn't yet been stripped away from him. "That isn't a word to call any woman and it most definitely doesn't apply to your mother." He waited a minute then asked, "Is that why you fought with them?"

Daiki shrugged his shoulders in the universal childhood admission of guilt. "I don't care what they say about me, but they shouldn't have said that about Mama."

"Have they? Said things about you?"

Another shrug. "They call me a bastard and an annoying know-it-all." Daiki hmphed derisively. "The first is true and isn't being a know-it-all is better than knowing nothing like them?"

"I see," Kyoya said softly, almost to himself, "And when they couldn't get what they wanted from insulting you, they changed targets."

Silence hung between them again, broken only by the sound of Daiki's shoe stabbing at the ground. "I'm sorry," he offered quietly.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to for fighting."

"No, not that," Daiki said emphatically, "I'm not sorry I hit them, even if it makes Mama unhappy. I'm sorry I couldn't do what you said. I couldn't find a 'centive for them not to be mean."

The admission that the boy had tried to use the advice Kyoya'd given him to solve a difficult problem on his own kindled a feeling of pride lanced through with sorrow in Kyoya's heart. "You shouldn't feel bad about that," he reassured the child, "This is one of those cases where finding the right incentive is difficult, maybe impossible."

Daiki turned a wide-eyed, curious stare on his mentor. "Why?"

Kyoya wondered how much to say. What would the child really understand? But, then, adults usually underestimated children's grasp on the cruelty of the world. Especially when it came to the precocious ones like he had been and like Daiki was. Hoping Haruhi would forgive him, he decided on the truth. "I don't know if you've realized this, but your grandfather is not only the chairman of your school, he's a wealthy man from an important family."

"So?" asked Daiki dismissively, "That's Ojii-chan, not me. Or Mama."

Kyoya's lips turned up in a fond smile. The boy really was so much like his mother. "It matters because at Ouran, who your family is can be _as_ or even _more_ important than who you are."

Daiki thought for a minute, his face screwed up in contemplation. "That's just stupid," he declared with conviction.

That drew a single, sharp bark of laughter from the older man. "Your mother thought so too. She used to tell us that frequently. And at length." He sobered and caught Daiki's eyes with his own. "It means that your grandfather is a powerful man. The kind of man people want things from."

Wheels were spinning behind Daiki's eyes. When he spoke again, Tamaki and Haruhi's son didn't disappoint. "So, they said bad things about Mama because they want something from Ojii-chan?"

"Yes, well done!" Daiki beamed at Kyoya's approving nod. "Your mother and you are commoners, so nobody is quite sure yet how to treat you. They don't know if being nice to you will result in getting a favor from your grandfather. So, instead, some people will try to get what they want by putting him in their debt."

It was almost painful to watch the light flicker out of Daiki's eyes as he followed Kyoya's argument to its conclusion. The boy dropped his eyes and whispered a soft, "Oh."

"I don't blame you for hitting the boys that were bullying you," Kyoya said gently, "But that was exactly the reaction they wanted. Their parents will use the fight to get whatever it is they want from Chairman Suoh in compensation."

"Will… will Ojii-sama be mad at me?"

"No." The denial came out so strongly that Daiki lifted his head back up. "Suoh isn't the type to blame you for not knowing the rules of a game you were never taught to play."

"But I messed up, right?" The distress in the child's eyes hardened to resolution. "Then, what was I s'posed to do? What would Ootori-ji have done?"

The Shadow King opened his mouth to respond but Kyoya shut it. "I don't think your mother – or your father – would want you to respond the way I would have."

The boy's brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "Why? Are you no good at playing?"

"I'm _too_ good at playing." Kyoya looped his elbows around the chains of the swing and pushed himself back and forth with his feet for a minute. "When I was your age, I wasn't a very nice child. My father raised me to believe that everyone was either someone to use or someone who would use me. In some ways, I was a lot like those bullies but I was much better at making it seem like I wasn't."

Kyoya lost himself for a minute in memories of his earlier years. Of all the subtle manipulations he'd performed to cement his standing as the most influential person in his class. Of the way he categorized everyone into who he should flatter, who he should use, and who he could ignore. And of the abject loneliness that came with treating people as objects. "It wasn't until I met your father that I realized there was a better way than what I'd been taught."

"Papa?" As always, any mention of Tamaki caused a rapt expression to appear on his son's face.

"Your father knew when people were looking at him and only seeing his family and he just... ignored it. No," Kyoya shook his head, reconsidering his words. "No, not ignore it. More like he didn't even participate in the games they played. He looked past the manipulations to the person behind them. Tried to see them for who they really were. If he saw they were hurting, he would help. If he found them interesting, he'd turn them into friends. Time after time I watched as people who thought they were playing _shoji_ suddenly realize he'd turned it into a game of Old Maid."

Daiki thought for a minute. "I don't think I want to be friends with them. Not after what they said."

"I'm not asking or telling you to do that," Kyoya replied without judgement. Life in the circles of the wealthy was complicated and ultimately everyone had to decide for themselves how to handle it. "Friendship is a very precious gift and only you can decide if they, or anyone, is worth it. I'm just grateful that your father decided I was."

"You bullied Papa?!" The boy's eyes were wider than saucers as he almost shouted the accusation.

"The opposite," Kyoya admitted, "I tried to make him think I was his friend so I could use him. But he saw through me and frustrated my every effort. He drove me crazy - spinning me around in circles until I finally broke down and accepted what he offered. And I wasn't the only person he saved."

Kyoya stood up and moved to crouch down in front of Daiki so they were at eye level. Reaching out, he ruffled the boy's hair. "I don't know what your father would have told you to do. But I do know he'd agree with me that your first mistake was trying to handle things alone. The world you're in because of your grandfather can be very difficult. It's okay for you to depend on adults in these matters. If you don't want to worry your mother, then you can always talk with me or with any of your uncles. Next time, don't keep silent, all right?"

Daiki nodded solemnly. "'kay."

Kyoya nodded solemnly back. "I'll hold you to that." Standing up, he held out a hand to the child. "Come, I'll send you home. Your mother is worried and your father would also say that a man should apologize when he upsets a woman who loves him."

Daiki ignored the hand. "Ootori-ji, do you like Mama?"

The question startled Kyoya and he took a step back. Looking away from the ingenuous face peering up at him, he focused on adjusting the cuffs of his suit while he recovered his composure. "Of course. I consider her one of my closest friends."

"That's _not_ what I mean." Daiki's tone was laced with enough disapproval that Kyoya felt as if _he_ was now the one misbehaving. "I _mean_ like when Shinya-kun told Mai-chan that he liked her and she said that she liked him too and they walked home together holding hands. And then the next day he gave her a bullfrog and she cried and said she didn't like him anymore."

Kyoya blinked at the turn the story had taken. "Why did he give her a bullfrog?"

"Because bullfrogs are cool," Daiki replied as if it were self-evident. "You didn't answer."

Kyoya was a master of controlling a conversation and he was not about to ask a five-year-old for permission to court his mother. Unfortunately, his mouth opened on its own and asked, "Would you be okay with it if I said yes?"

Seconds ticked past while Daiki stared at him, assessing him. Then the child gave a single, grave nod of benediction. "Yes. I like you. I like Hika-ji too – he makes her laugh. You mostly make her angry but it's a happy kind of angry. And she doesn't look all worried or cry in the closet anymore."

"Daiki-kun," Kyoya replied with the same formality he would have used were this interview with Ranka. "I can't promise that I will never make your mother cry. But if I do, I promise that she won't cry for long because of me."

"Swear?" Daiki held out his right hand, pinky extended for a time-honored, sacred vow.

Kyoya linked the child's pinky with his own. "I swear." They shook once and unlaced their fingers and Kyoya once more extended his hand. This time Daiki took it, using it to jump off the swing, and the two men headed back towards the woman waiting for them.

"Ootori-ji," Daiki asked as they left the playground, "Would Papa have really tried to be friends with someone who was mean to him?"

"Maybe - he could be unpredictable like that. But if they'd insulted your mother, he probably would have hit them first." Kyoya looked down and winked at Daiki's startled face. "But let's not tell your mother that."


	18. Omake:  When Kaoru met Stefan

_**Two years ago, January** _

"Kao! Kao, wake up! We're going to be late."

"Whrfg!" Kaoru's jerked his head up off the desk, his hands flailing about for his latest sketches. "Lower the hem three-quarter inch and lose the contrast color on the sleeves!" he shouted to nobody.

Hikaru collapsed against the door of Kaoru's room in a heap of laughter. "Right. I think you have officially hit the 'so-stressed-your-delirious' mark."

"I'm fine." Kaoru ran a hand through hair half-plastered to his face. "I just needed a nap."

"Dude, you have a post-it note stuck to your cheek."

The over-worked designer plucked the offending item from his skin with a huff while his brother nearly doubled over in amusement. "Shit. Maybe I do need a break – not that I'll get one today. Why did Mom have to pick the month before fashion week to do another 'doppelganger' photo shoot."

"Maybe _because_ it's the month before fashion week? You know she wants the ads to be in the same magazines the reviews are in. Or you would if you had any brain-space left to think about anything except for your own show." Hikaru walked over and rapped his knuckles on the back of Kaoru's head. "Stop being grumpy, it'll be fun. We don't get to play 'which one is Hikaru' that much anymore."

Kaoru rolled his shoulders backwards to ease the crick in his upper back. Maybe being mistaken for each other _would_ be amusing instead of tiresome for a change. It wasn't like it happened very often anymore. Since moving to New York three years ago, they'd cultivated a whole host of differences. Different hair. Different clothes. Different careers. These days, to look alike, they had to plan for it.

To advertise this year's fall line, Mom wanted something splashy and an updated variation on her legendary 'doppelganger' ad campaign fit the bill. The twins were as identical as ever in face and body so all it took was getting the same haircut - a long undercut which could be slicked back for a startup tech company president or spiked dramatically for an up-and-coming designer – and even their mother wouldn't be able to tell them apart.

"Eh, not like I could say no anyway." Kaoru stood up, stretching his arms up over his head and then bending back to crack his spine. "I just really need the time to work on finishing the show."

"I've seen the designs, Kao – they're solid. At this point you are only second-guessing yourself." Hikaru's lips twitched and eyes gleamed mischievously. "Besides, I don't think it's really the shoot that has you stressed out, is it?"

Kaoru rubbed his face with his hands and groaned. "Gods, did you have to remind me? I was hoping I could pretend to forget about it." Grasping the hem of his t-shirt he pulled it over his head and began stripping off the rest of his clothes on his way to the adjoined bathroom.

With their customary lack of regard for each other's privacy, Hikaru followed. "Like Mom would let you get away with that."

Turning the water on as hot as it would go, Kaoru slid into the shower. Bending his head, he let the spray soak into his hair and run down his body in hopes the boiling-to-the-point-of-pain temperature would clear up his fatigue. "Why is it always _me_ she sets up on blind dates?"

"Because Ageha's too young and I'm an unrepentant man-whore." Hikaru busied himself playing around with the wide array of hair and skin product Kaoru had accumulated in his medicine cabinet. He pumped a dollop of face wash on the back of one hand and rubbed it in. "Face it, Kao, you are her only hope for adorable, photogenic grand-babies - even if you end up adopting them from Ethiopia or Cambodia or whatever country the celebs are sourcing them from this year."

With another groan, Kaoru leaned forward until his head thunked against the shower wall. He didn't have time for another one of Mom's attempts to pair him off with a 'nice young man – good family and soooo talented.' He barely had time to breathe, let alone date. And to date seriously? Might as well ask him to make fanny packs look anything but lame.

But he'd do it anyway, because he knew damn well he was lucky. When he'd finally come out to his family, Dad had hugged him, Mom had asked if he needed to talk about it and then set him up with three 'nice young men' she knew, and Hikaru? Hikaru hadn't even batted an eye.

* * *

_**Three years prior, November** _

" _Oi, Kaoru! Aren't you done with your assignment yet? I'm hungry." Hikaru flopped backwards onto his brother's bed, bouncing some of the pillows to the floor._

_Kaoru sighed and closed his laptop. "Yeah, just finished," he lied._

_He'd finished an hour ago. The rest of the time had been spent wavering back and forth over whether today he would go through with it as planned. Whether he'd finally_ _tell the person closest to him the secret which had been weighing him down for months._

_For the longest time, things like 'boys or girls' hadn't mattered. Their world had been too narrow to even let a friend in, let alone anyone more significant than that. When they'd finally started to look outside of that bubble, Kaoru realized he was encountering more questions than answers. But the year in Boston had been a revelation for the younger Hitachiin - he'd discovered and come to terms with a number of things about himself._

_One of them was that he felt no need to proclaim_ anything _. Not yet._

 _He wasn't afraid - all the people he cared about would accept him for who he was. They'd done it already just by taking the time to understand where he differed from his clone. Most of the rest wouldn't be surprised - half of them were already under the illusion he was an_ uke. _The other half just didn't know the term. And if they disapproved? Well, he'd never really given two shits for their opinion anyway._

_No, it wasn't fear. It was that he wasn't willing to take the step that would alter the central truth of his life._

_As long as he could remember, he had been different from everyone around him. Everyone but one. His identity had never been rooted in being an artist or rich or gay or Japanese or in_ anything _but being a twin. Part of a matched set. Perfectly identical to anyone who wasn't them, totally unique to each other._

 _Even as that started to change, as they started to grow into individuals, they were still alike. Both creative, playful, quick-witted, passionate, loyal - Hikaru was 10% more mischievous. Kaoru was 10% more sincere. But those were just variations on a theme. As much as he'd always wanted for people to realize they weren't the same, he'd never wanted people to think of them as_ different _. He'd been content to leave things as they were._

_Until, suddenly, he wasn't._

_The loss of Tamaki and Haruhi, the heart and soul of their little family, hit everyone differently. For Kaoru, it had meant waking up to the fact that life gave you no guarantees. There were only a few precious years to live the life you wanted. To be the person you wanted. To love who you wanted._

_And then he_ had _become afraid - because for Hikaru, the loss had come hard._

_Turning in his desk chair, Kaoru could see the dark circles under his brother's eyes and the pasty skin tone representing another night spent in a haze of alcohol and meaningless sex. Hell, they'd only turned nineteen this year. Hikaru shouldn't even have been able to get into half the places he'd had to be pulled out of._

_For three months, Kaoru'd agonized over whether telling Hikaru would cause his older brother to spiral even further downward. But he was done waiting. Done denying himself for the sake of his brother. This wasn't about giving up on a girl (who looked like a boy) that he'd only have broken up with eventually._ This _was about doing what was needed for him, maybe for both of them, to move forward. To grow up. To embrace life._

_Kaoru sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it on a sigh. "Hika, before we go… I… I wanted to talk to you."_

_Hikaru's head turned in his direction. "What's up, Kao? You sound kinda serious. It's freaking me out."_

_Kaoru shrugged one shoulder. "It is serious, I guess."_

_His brother bolted upright, twisting to face him. "Oh God, did you get someone pregnant?!" Hikaru's eyes bugged out in panic. "No, wait - did_ I _get someone pregnant?! I mean, I think I've been careful and I don't know why you'd know before me, but…"_

" _Nobody's pregnant!" Kaoru shouted over him. He rubbed at his forehead to drive out the tension building behind his eyes. "Actually, it's almost the exact opposite of that." Hikaru was still staring at him, fear in his eyes. "It's… well…" He forced himself to stop stammering. Best to just get it over with quickly. "Well… I'm gay."_

_All traces of anxiety disappeared instantly from his brother's face. "Yeah, I figured." Hikaru stood up and headed for the door. "Let's eat. Do you want Thai or Vietnamese? I feel like something spicy."_

_Kaoru stared after his brother, shell-shocked. "Wait!" Leaping out of his chair, he grabbed a jacket from the closet and raced down the hallway after his twin. "What do you mean 'you figured?'"_

_Hikaru stopped and Kaoru nearly ran into him. Turning around, he rolled his eyes at his younger twin. "Really? You know…" He waved his fingers back and forth between them. "Twins? Shared a womb? Together 24x7x365 until we were sixteen? Any of that ring a bell?"_

" _Yeah, but still…"_

" _Oh shit! Were you…" Guilt twisted Hikaru's expression and he gripped his brother's shoulder. "Kao, were you worried about telling me? You know I love you, right? Gods, I was supposed to be all sensitive and crap and I blew it, didn't I."_

" _You kinda did. But I'm used to it, jerk." Kaoru laughed and flicked his brother in the forehead. "I know you love me. I just wasn't sure how you'd take a difference between us this big."_

" _Idiot. That's not big." Hikaru squeezed Kaoru's shoulder and turned back to head for the door. "Deciding your ambition in life is to be an accountant would be big. Getting a douchey tattoo on your junk would be big." They exited their apartment, locking the door behind them. "Realizing you prefer to bone dudes? Not that big."_

_Sometimes, you just had to glomph your older brother._

" _Oi! We dropped the twincest act three years ago." Tousling his little brother's hair, Hikaru wrapped his arm around the other's shoulders and pulled him to the elevator. "C'mon, I'm starving. Besides, if we stand here much longer we'll give the_ fujoshi _living_ _next door anemia. You know she peers out the peephole every time she hears our door open."_

_They took the stairs down to the street and emerged onto a sidewalk thronging with people despite the late hour. For a graduation present, their parents had gifted them with a 2LDK mansion in a trendy Tokyo neighborhood. The commute to their design school was a bit far, but the area suited them – young, vibrant, filled with one-of-a-kind boutiques and ethnic restaurants, and never seeming to sleep. After a quick debate, they settled on the Pho place a three block walk from the apartment._

" _Hika, you know I' m going to need more than 'I figured' from you." Kaoru shoved his hands into his coat pocket to ward off the November chill. "Twin telepathy isn't enough to explain it."_

_They stopped at a crosswalk to wait for the light and Hikaru cupped his hands, blowing on them for warmth. "I guess it was lots of little things that just added up over time. Like how you were never interested in any of the girls we hosted."_

" _N_ _either were you."_

" _No, I never wanted to_ date _them, but I was_ interested _in them." He smiled wickedly and wagged his eyebrows. "Or at least certain parts of them. But you never seemed to notice their bodies except in a fashiony way. And then there was how every costume you designed for Mori-sempai was missing a shirt."_

" _Well yeah – I mean, we are talking about Mori-sempai here. Who wouldn't want to see him shirtless?"_

" _Point." HIkaru sighed longingly. "I think I'd be willing to go 'bi' for that man's abs." Kaoru punched him in the shoulder right as the 'walk' sign lit up. Hikaru laughed, grabbed his brother's arm by the elbow and dragged him onward. "But the clincher was Boston. I couldn't help noticing that when I was hooking up with that girl, Maria… no, Margaurite?... Mirabelle?..."_

" _Amanda?"_

" _Yeah, her." Hikaru's hand flicked in the air like he was brushing away a fly. "While I was getting busy with her, you spent most of your time with Brandon from the apartment next door instead of whichever girl you were allegedly dating."_

" _Hika." Kaoru's voice dripped with disdain. "You do realize that just because you hang out with someone who's gay that doesn't make you gay too."_

_Hikaru stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to glare bemusedly at his brother. "Kao – I saw the hickeys he gave you."_

" _Okay." Kaoru could feel a blush rising up the back of his neck which probably matched his hair. "I guess_ that _was a dead give-away." He quickened his steps to outrun his brother's amusement and pretty soon they reached the door to the restaurant._

_The popular neighborhood joint serving up good food at cheap prices was crowded and they crammed into the small entry way to wait for a table to free up. Ignoring stares and excited whispers from some of the single (and not so single) women around them, they huddled as close up against the wall as they could._

" _So," said Kaoru once the party of four taking up most of the space had been seated and they could breathe, "If you knew, why didn't you say anything?"_

 _Hikaru's shoulders rose up to his ears and dropped. "I just… guessed if it was something you weren't ready to tell_ me _yet then you were still working things out."_

" _That is… surprisingly sensitive of you."_

" _Well, I am the older brother after all. It's my job to look out for you." Kaoru smiled, but before he could fully appreciate the warm comfort of_ real _brotherly love, Hikaru's eyes lit up with devilish glee. "Hey! I just realized – this will totally distract Mom away from digging up another potential daughter-in-law to throw at me. She's been scraping the bottom of the barrel but now there's a ton of friend's sons she can throw at_ you!" _Sticking his arm straight out, he gave Kaoru a thumbs up. "Good job, little bro!_ "

* * *

"Maybe this blind date will be a good thing." Hikaru's voice brought Kaoru crashing back into the present. "You desperately need to get laid." Deciding the jar of moisturizer he held in his hand met his standards, he began working some into his face. "Carlos is doing the shoot and that hot assistant of his – Naomi? Natalie? Nina?"

"Danielle?"

"Yeah, her." Hikaru's dismissive wave demonstrated just how inconsequential she was. "I'll take her out tonight so you can bring Mom's future son-in-law back to the house and get your freak on."

Hikaru never brought a girl back to their shared brownstone on the Lower East Side. Not once. He didn't care enough about any of them to let them know where he lived.

Kaoru shut off the spray and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. "I do not need to get laid."

He totally needed to get laid.

But, if all he wanted was a sweaty bout between the sheets to relieve his stress, then he didn't need to go on a date. And he definitely didn't need to go on one arranged by his _mother_. He was young, rich, good-looking, an amazing lover (at least, according to all those who wanted a repeat), and had rap stars wearing his clothes. If he only wanted casual, he could have his pick.

Even in New York, whatever subsection of the gay community you occupied tended to be small and insular. There were few eligible men in the fashion world or at the bars he frequented that he hadn't already met, dated, and/or slept with. He'd always left them satisfied and on friendly terms - even his break-ups had been amiable. There might even be one (or more) of his ex-relationships/hook-ups at the shoot today and it was unlikely they'd turn down a chance for some fun.

If he were honest with himself, he was becoming tired of all that. One-night stands and friends-with-benefits satisfied his physical needs but, lately, it left him feeling like he'd eaten too much junk food. He was growing dissatisfied with the status-quo.

Maybe it had been Honey's wedding the past summer that caused it. When the baby-faced senior said his vows, there had been a look in his eyes as he gazed at Reiko that struck Kaoru like an arrow to the chest. It sparked a feeling of envy, of a desire for something _more_ , so deep it flirted with bitterness.

He'd kept all of this to himself, no matter how many times he wished he could discuss it with his twin, his only true confidant. But Haruhi's absence had ripped a hole in Hikaru's heart - one he kept trying to fill with an endless round of women whose names he never remembered. A part of Kaoru was always afraid the wrong word, the wrong topic, would send his brother back into the pit he'd tried to bury himself in after _tono's_ death.

Sometimes, he wished he could hate the woman he'd once considered his second best friend. Wished he could write her off and hope her dead. But he knew her too well - Haruhi would never have left if she hadn't needed to. Wouldn't stay gone if she didn't need to still.

Bumping his brother away from the sink with his hip, Kaoru began the morning routine of shaving, teeth brushing, and so on that would take him from merely handsome to model-worthy. "Is sex your answer to everything?"

"Do I even need to answer that?" Hikaru started hyper-actively digging through the cabinet drawers to Kaoru's right. "So, who is this dude, anyway?"

"Geez, Hika – leave my stuff alone, will ya?" With a few quick movements, Kaoru styled his hair to look exactly like the man standing next to him leaving out the product so the stylist had a clean base to work off of. Dropping the towel in the laundry basket, he headed back into his room. "I didn't really listen when Mom called about it. Some son or nephew or cousin or something of one of her frenemies."

"Another designer brat?" Hikaru shuddered dramatically. "Lucky you – too bad they aren't all awesome, creative geniuses like us."

Kaoru huffed an agreement. Most of the children of his mother's colleagues fell into two categories – trust fund kids with no ambition or, worse, businessmen who could only monetize art not create it. But then, who could blame them when most of the old brands were starting to slip from family control? It took a lot of balls to go off on your own like he and Hikaru had done. The likelihood that his mother's latest find would be someone he could respect, maybe even admire, was pretty low.

Still, he thought wistfully, it would be nice if this date could turn into something more.

Not that he had time for that sort of thing.

"Promise you'll give me the 'bad date rescue' call in case it's a horror show." he demanded of his brother.

Hikaru held up his fingers in a Boy Scout salute. "Thirty minutes in, just like always."

Kaoru slipped on a pair of black skinny jeans, a gray long-sleeved t-shirt covered by an aesthetically-ripped white short-sleeved hoodie, and red converse. Linking arms with his twin, they checked out their dual images in the mirror on the closet door. As one, their faces lit up with a hint of devilish glee at the sight neither one had seen in nearly three years – two men, side-by-side, absolutely identical in every visual aspect.

Only she-who-must-not-be-named would have been able to tell the difference.

* * *

"Darling boys." Yuzuha Hiitachin floated over to them in a swirl of perfume and bangly jewelry. The layers of brightly colored trinkets perfectly accented the staid, but comfortable, black turtleneck, taupe wide-legged pants, and black ankle boots she wore for a busy day on her feet. She gave both of them a hug and a European kiss on each cheek. "The entire crew is excited about the return of the legendary Hitachiin Twins. Thank you so much for doing this."

"You mean we had a choice?" asked Kaoru, "Great, I have a ton to do so I'm out." His journey to the door was stopped by Hikaru's choke-hold around his neck.

"Oh, Hikaru." Yuzuha patted Kaoru on the cheek. "Such a prankster." Turning to Hikaru, she asked, "And how are preparations for your show? The sophomore effort is the hardest, especially following a spectacular debut."

"Going great," Hikaru replied, "But I could really use a break. This date you set up will be the perfect way to relax."

The twins' mother clapped her hands together. "I'm so glad you're looking forward to it. You'll love him – adorable boy and soooo talented. Now," she said brusquely, slipping from the role of mom to designer, "The other models are already here so go get ready." She gestured towards the right wall of the main studio space. "Hair and makeup is second door on the right, they're waiting for you."

Knowing better than to ire her when she was in her professional mode, they obediently did as instructed. As soon as they were out of earshot, Kaoru punched Hikaru in the ribs. "Ass! Now I _have_ to go to that date. She's going to call me tomorrow to ask how it went!"

"Just looking out for my younger brother." Hikaru smirked and opened the door of the makeup area, standing aside for his brother to enter first. "You. Bone. Need to."

"I do _not_ need to bone," Kaoru whispered furiously, not wanting the people already in the room to overhear. There were two of them – one male, one female – both with their backs to the door as they lined the tools of their trade on waist-high counters.

" _Ciao,_ you must be Kaoru and Hikaru." The man said in an Italian accent that hit Kaoru's ears like a warm cup of cappuccino. "I am Stefan and this is my assistant, Natasha." Setting the makeup brush in his hand down, he turned to welcome the twins with a smile.

Kaoru stopped dead in his tracks.

Holy fuck.

Shit.

Dear sweet Buddha.

He. Was. Gorgeous.

Only an inch or two shorter than the twins, the lead makeup artist had a muscular build that was more lean than bulky. The light-gray t-shirt clinging to his torso like it was paint left nothing to the imagination - his abs might not be Mori-level, but they were damn close. An artfully disheveled mess of brown, curly hair framed a strong jaw line, patrician nose, gentle eyes, and full lips.

Taken together, he looked like Michelangelo's David sprung to life.

Beside him, Kaoru heard Hikaru's snigger and knew that he must be gaping like a fish. Thank god Stefan hadn't seemed to notice - he'd turned back around to fiddle with some of the items on the counter, revealing a denim-covered ass that was nothing short of amazing.

"Alright, _bei ragazzi_ , let's have Hikaru with Natasha." Stefan pointed to the chair on his left which his assistant stood next to. Kaoru was too transfixed by her boss to notice more than blue-purple hair plaited back in a braid, ripped jeans, and a classic rock t-shirt. "And Kaoru, you're with me."

Not knowing quite why he did it, Kaoru went to sit down in the chair on the right.

Quirking his head at the younger twin, the makeup artist gave a faint smile. "Natasha, switch with me," he ordered and moved to stand next to the chair Kaoru occupied. The young woman just shrugged and took the place her boss had vacated as Hikaru sat down.

Stefan stood in front of Kaoru and leaned forward, scrutinizing the face he'd be working on. Kaoru fought to keep his breath from catching. Oh lord, his eyes! So beautiful – blue, but not the common type, all ice-sharp and pale. These were so dark they were almost gray. Like the sea on a stormy day.

"Good. Good," the Italian muttered to himself. With a look proclaiming his satisfaction with whatever course of direction he'd decided on, he stood back aright and gave a curt nod. "Hair first," he instructed his assistant. Switching to address the twins, he explained what had been decided on. "We'll do a modern pompadour for the winter formal line. A good complement to the classic military cuts, no?"

Grabbing a spray bottle off the counter, Stefan wet down Karou's hair and then blew it dry using a round brush to sweep it back off his face while Natasha duplicated the process for the other Hitachiin. The noise from the blow dryers inhibited conversation and Kaoru was grateful for the chance to regain his equilibrium.

After the quick style, Stefan scooped some pomade from a jar and rubbed it on his hands. With efficient, experienced strokes he worked the product through the younger twin's red locks. Kaoru's eyes closed of their own volition, every nerve on his head sending little tingling sensations through his body. This guy's fingers were magic – strong, firm, with a gentle touch that had his imagination picturing them running elsewhere on his body.

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Kaoru desperately tried to distract his lower anatomy from the fact that his hair was being caressed by a living Renaissance sculpture. "I haven't seen you around before, have you worked with my mother long."

"Mmmm… six, seven years or so. But not on this side of the camera." Finishing distributing the pomade, Stefan moved back around to the front of the chair to style the front with a comb. "Natasha," he said without taking his eyes of Kaoru, "Sweep slightly to the left like this. You have the part going too much towards the right."

Natasha grunted in acknowledgement.

"So, you were, what – a model?" Kaoru asked. He justified his curiosity by reasoning that if this guy was skilled enough for his mother's ad campaign then he might be a good resource for Kaoru as well.

" _Si_ , since I was seventeen. Same age you were when the first 'dopelganger' ad campaign was launched, no?" Stefan placed the comb down and began the process of prepping his model's face for makeup. "I mostly did runway for Yuzuha – Milan, Paris, London. A little print work for her too, but nothing on your scale." When done cleaning Kaoru's skin, Stefan dotted some picked up a tube containing flesh-colored liquid and dotted a blob on the back of his hand then mixed in a few other tones until he had one he liked. "I quit two years ago and apprenticed under my uncle, Gianmarco Tomaino. You know him?"

"Yeah, I've… heard of him," Kaoru choked out. Tomaino was one of the most sought after makeup gurus in the industry. If your brand hadn't achieved the status of having household name recognition, he wouldn't even put you on his wait-list.

Using a butterfly-light touch, Stefan smoothed his custom mixed concealer under Kaoru's eyes. "After finishing that I decided to, what is the term… 'fly solo?'" He waited on Kaoru to nod a confirmation before continuing, "I moved to New York last September. Your mother, she is very generous to give me this opportunity."

"Why the career change?" Male models didn't age as quickly as female and, from what Kaoru could see, Stefan was nowhere close to being past his prime.

"This is more fun, no?" His smile widened to a boyish grin that plunged Karou's heart into free fall. "I like being the artist instead of the art." Holding Kaoru's chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted the Hiitachiin twin's head left and right. When done, he gave an appraising glance at Hikaru in the next seat. "Amazing skin. No foundation, I think. Just powder for the first look."

Natasha merely grunted again. Kaoru was becoming distressingly aware that the other two occupants of the room had barely said a word – their ears too intent on listening to his and Stefan's conversation.

Stefan tapped a makeup brush against the back of his hand to dislodge excess powder and started sweeping it over Kaoru's face. "But you understand the desire to create, no? Designing the clothes instead of wearing them."

Kaoru's locked his face into an impassivity worthy of Kyoya. "Sorry, I'm Hikaru."

The Italian raised one eyebrow and his lips twitched up in amusement. "Your brother's game design is very creative too, but you? Your work?" He brought his fingertips to his lips and kissed them. "Brilliant."

Kaoru felt like someone had hit him over the head with a brick. He couldn't tell if it was astonishment that Stefan had guessed which twin wasn't Hikaru or happiness that the Italian liked his work.

Without looking, Stefan reached back and grabbed a thin tube of translucent mascara. "Kaoru, you should blink please. Your eyes will water and ruin the concealer."

Realizing he'd been staring like a tourist in Times Square, Kaoru forced his eyes to shut and open.

"Now," Stefan ordered, "Look down and to my right." A few quick but perfectly placed strokes with the wand later, he stood back and beamed. "Perfect. You're all done - wardrobe is waiting for you next door."

Kaoru stood, still slightly dazed and a little uncertain as to whether he could exit the room without walking into something. As he turned to leave, Stefan's voice called him back. "Ah, one more thing."

The Italian lifted his hand to Kaoru's lips, and slowly ran his thumb across them. Roughened flesh scraped against sensitive nerves, sending ripples of pleasure coursing straight to Kaoru's brain and his lips parted of their own volition in an unmistakable invitation. Every bump, every groove of the callused skin imprinted itself on the entrance to his mouth like a brand. When he was done, Stefan dropped one eye in a lazy, sensual wink. "Sorry, forgot the lip balm."

Holy fuck!

* * *

"Sooooo, you and the makeup guy, huh?"

Kaoru glared at his brother from the corner of his eyes and piled three tiny _carne asada_ tacos on his plate. Their mom, the dragon, had finally allowed them a break after four hours involving multiple costume changes but no new hair or makeup. He tamped down his sense of disappointment about that. "Shut. Up."

Hikaru's smirk broadened to a grin and he popped another mini-BLT-on-an-English-muffin into his mouth. It had to be his twelfth. "Haven't seen you so worked up over a guy since Jamie."

Kaoru rolled his eyes. "How is it you still know every one of my boyfriends' names but can't even remember the name of the girl whose pants you're trying to get into?"

"Because not even she…" He jerked his head in the direction of Danielle. "…cares if I know her name? You know I don't hang with the ones who want anything more than to play around." He chomped on his thirteenth BLT. "Well, if tall, dark, and Italian really _isn't_ getting your juices flowing there's always Carlos' _other_ hot assistant. I'm sure he'd go for you - he was checking my ass out earlier."

Kaoru's eyes flickered towards an incredibly well-built, African-American man with a shaved head and eyes like warm molasses. He was another new face, another possibility, but Kaoru simply couldn't fix his interest in that direction today. He scowled, not happy with the implication. "Hika, stop trying to set me up. It's bad enough dealing with Mom."

"Whatever." Hikaru shrugged. "But Natasha and I have a bet going on which of you jumps the other first so if you change your mind, I want the inside track."

Kaoru rolled his eyes at the fact that the only woman here whose name Hikaru knew was the one who'd expressed zero interest in him. Shaking his head, he walked away from his brother and spent the remainder of the break networking and trying not to think about curly brown hair, blue eyes, and an accent as warm as the Tuscan sun.

After twenty minutes, his mother imperiously summoned everyone back to work. Out of perverseness, the brothers wordlessly exchanged the places they'd been in before the break with Kaoru moving to stand at the head of the female model draped over the red chaise lounge and Hikaru at her feet.

Carlos took several shots, calling them by the wrong names the whole time. When he called a quick halt so he and Yuzuha could review the images, the makeup artists descended on the trio. Stefan, as lead artist, took on the more complicated role of making sure the center model's makeup was in a photo-ready state. His eyes flickered to the twins on either side, assessing what work they needed. "Natasha, Hikaru's concealer needs refreshing." The blue-haired woman headed towards Kaoru. "No, not him – the other one."

Over the head of the female model, the brothers shared a look.

Declaring her satisfaction with the first round of photos, Yuzuha sent the brothers off for a change in style. This time, not even Natasha could mistake who was who as each had their locks, artfully disheveled to match the youthful tone of their mother's athletic wear line, parted to one side – Hikaru's on the right and Kaoru's on the left. The makeup was different as well, heavier and more dramatic, which meant more time in the chair with Stefan gliding his marvelous fingers across Kaoru's skin. This time, there was no talking - the two pairs of ears attentively listening next to him inhibited conversation.

Another five long hours and innumerable costume changes later, they were finally done. But only for today. The full shoot would take two more days and three more locations. After hugging their mother goodbye, they did the usual round of 'great jobs' and 'see you tomorrows' with everyone else - Hikaru even shook hands with Natasha.

Stefan, though, was nowhere to be found.

Not that Kaoru was looking.

As they reached the door to the street, Kaoru stopped and patted his coat pockets. "Hika, you go on home. I left my cell phone back upstairs."

"I could hold the Uber."

"Ah.. no, that's okay. I'll find my own way home." Hikaru's knowing smirk was something Kaoru chose not to deal with.

On the way back upstairs, he stopped in the bathroom and ran his fingers through his hair, changing the part to the other side. Staring at his reflection, he wondered why the hell he was doing this. He'd left childish tricks behind him a long time ago.

But he didn't change his hair back.

Slipping quietly back into the makeup room, Kaoru's eyes gravitated immediately to its only occupant. Stefan had his back to the door again, his attention focused on packing away his materials. Lifting his head at the sound of the door closing, he turned to look over his shoulder and their eyes locked.

"Kaoru, I thought you had left?" The soft lilt at the end hinted at a question.

"Forgot my phone." Walking up alongside the other man, he reached past him to pick up the iPhone which had been deliberately left on the makeup station counter. "And I'm Hikaru."

"No," Stefan angled his body towards Kaoru, resting his hip on the counter. "You're not."

Kaoru stared at the phone in his hands. "How do you know?" It came out barely above a whisper.

Stefan leaned forward until his lips were almost brushing Kaoru's ear. "Because, when I look at your brother, I don't want him to fuck me." Without thinking, Kaoru's body turned into the invitation. The Italian's eyes lit up at the implied acceptance and his lips parted in a teasing grin. "But only if you buy me dinner first. I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy."

Kaoru opened his mouth, the 'yes' on his tongue unexpectedly turning into a sigh. "I'm… sorry, but I have this thing tonight I have to do."

Stefan shrugged and turned away. "Pity. We could have had some fun." He resumed packing his makeup case and Kaoru's shoulders slumped with dismay. No suggestion of another time. No offer of a phone number. Despite the off-the-charts chemistry between them, Stefan was just another guy looking for a no-strings-attached good time.

With a half-hearted 'see you tomorrow,' Kaoru headed home to get ready for his date.

* * *

Two hours later, Kaoru stood on a sidewalk in West Harlem looking at the restaurant he was meeting his parental-approved date at. Upscale Italian. Great. Not his favorite food to eat anywhere outside of the nation that produced it. He needed to get into a better mood – it wasn't his unknown date's fault that familial duty had forced him to turn down an offer he had regretted not accepting the minute the door had closed behind him.

His heart might not be in this, but he would do his best. He'd even put extra effort into his outfit as a sign of his resolve. The white, drape-collared shirt, black stretch dress pants and black motorcycle boots were carefully selected to be trendy enough to be appropriate for any restaurant in the city which didn't require a jacket and tie. And he wouldn't be caught dead in one of those. Not even for his mother.

Nervousness didn't set in until he got inside. The worst part of a blind date was that little bubble of hope at the start. The wish that _this_ one, despite all evidence and expectations to the contrary, would be different. Refusing the hostess' offer to take his coat, he chose to hold the dark-grey, military coat in his arms instead. The faster to make a quick getaway if required. Gods, he should have asked for a picture. Or at least a name. What if the 'adorable boy' was boring? Or ugly? Or…

Or sitting right over there.

At a table set for two in the dead center of the restaurant sat a man with the eyes of the sea and the body of Adonis. As if sensing Kaoru's gaze, Stefan looked up from his menu and wiggled his fingers in a wave. He had also changed out of work attire. A pair of black rimmed glasses perched on his aquiline nose and gave his charcoal-gray cashmere turtleneck, white chinos, and dark gray camo-patterned blazer a 'university professor meets army commando' flair. The look hit every one of Karou's buttons - he'd always had a thing for _megane._

"You wear glasses?" Kaoru asked, slipping into the seat opposite him.

"They're real." Stefan tapped the side of them with his finger. "After a long day, my eyes get tired and I have to take out my contacts."

Kaoru chuckled. "This isn't one big coincidence, is it?"

Stefan smothered a snort. "Yuzuha she is… whimsical, _si?_ "

"That's one way of putting it," Kaoru snarked. It hadn't been their father who the twins had inherited their 'little devil' nature from.

The waiter came by with a second menu and to solicit their cocktail orders, which both men deferred. Kaoru studied his menu as if he'd be tested on it. Faced with the guy he'd been lusting after all day, he felt more apprehensive than excited. The intimacy of a first date could sometimes be harder to deal with if it was a person you already knew. There was nothing here to distract them, nothing they could use to cover awkward pauses. No way to pretend they weren't looking at each other with a seriousness that couldn't be easily dismissed.

The pressure to connect under these circumstances as easily as they had earlier appeared to be making Stefan equally as tongue-tied. It didn't help that the restaurant had that quiet formality cultivated by places which made their bread-and-butter off people celebrating birthdays, graduations, and anniversaries. An atmosphere better suited to an established couple and not one that hadn't even started.

Maybe he shouldn't have turned down that drink.

"Hey." Stefan broke the silence and leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with a conspiratorial charm. "No offense to your mother, but I hate Italian restaurants. Not even the best chef is a better cook than my _nonna._ Want to, what is the phrase – 'make a break for it?' I know a great East African place nearby."

Kaoru's tension fled. "Oh, hell yeah. Let's go."

* * *

"Oh man, this is incredible." Kaoru closed his eyes to better appreciate the explosion of taste roiling over his tongue. "What did you call it again?" Never having eaten this type of cuisine before, Kaoru had asked his foodie companion to order on both their behalf. An array of dishes ranging from familiar (thin rounds of flat bread layered together in a stack) to the exotic (a giant white glob that resembled sculptured cottage cheese).

" _Ndizi na Nyama -_ basically beef and plantains. I'm glad you like it."

The change of venue had been the right call. Both of them had been able to relax enough to start having the typical 'first date' conversation during the walk to the restaurant and while waiting for their food. They covered the full gauntlet - favorite TV shows, movies, designers, things to read. Kaoru entertained Stefan with stories about his high school adventures. Stefan reciprocated with the exploits of him and his seven brothers and sisters, eighteen aunts and uncles, and enough cousins to form their own village.

And, even though the joint looked like a roach was going to scurry across the floor at any moment, the food was amazing.

Now that they'd broken the 'awkward first date' ice, Kaoru circled back to something that had bugged him since he'd walked into the first restaurant. "If you knew the date was with me, why didn't you say so at the shoot?"

"I wanted to meet you first. Without the whole…" Stefan made desultory circles in the air with his hand. "…date thing."

Lifting his beer up for a sip, Kaoru lifted the corner of his mouth in a smile. "Were you planning on standing me up if you didn't like what you found?"

Stefan's eyes widened. "Ah, no… not at all. I…" He half-collapsed on to the table, running his hands through his hair. The resulting mess made him look even more attractive. "Ok. Ok. Truth? I was nervous. I've had a bit of a crush on you for a while."

"Crush? Really?" Kaoru winced inwardly. So far, everything about Stefan was appealing. He was talented, driven, intelligent, funny and possessed both a quiet self-confidence and a hint of shyness. But none of that would matter if he was just another fanboi attracted to the 'designer' or the 'model.'

"Ah… you maybe would not remember. We met once. A long time ago, in Milan." Stefan's prior confident mien was morphing into a kind of geeky earnestness that was utterly adorable. "You were twelve? Maybe thirteen?"

"Milan, huh. I sort of remember that." Kaoru's unease turned to interest in where Stefan's tale was headed. "It was summer, first year middle school so we must have been thirteen. After we'd driven off the fifth nanny in two weeks, Mom decided we needed more 'direct supervision.'" He wrinkled his face apologetically. "I don't remember you though, sorry."

Stefan waved it away. "You wouldn't. I spent most of my time hiding in corners and reading back then. I was fifteen and obsessed with fashion. Aunt Marta, she was an editor for Italian Vogue, planned a shoot featuring all the premiere Asian designers. I whined and begged and pleaded until she allowed me to come."

"Was that the one with the bitchy supermodel?"

"The one who called you two a pair of little shits when your mother couldn't hear? _Si._ " Stefan's shoulders began shaking with remembered mirth. "And then, as revenge, you snuck into the storage room, let her nasty little bichon frise out of its cage, and tempted it out into the studio with a piece of prosciutto where..."

When Stefan collapsed, laughing too hard to continue, Kaoru fought through his own guffaws to pick up the story "…Where it jumped on the catering table, devoured the sandwiches, pissed on the shrimp skewers, and started humping the coffee urn!" He laughed at the memory until he had to wipe away tears from his eyes. "Oh, man. I'd almost forgotten that. Geez, Hika and I were little brats back then."

"No, she deserved it – my whole family is in the Industry and have worked with her at one point or another. _Madre di Dio,_ the stories I could tell!" Nostalgia softened Stefan's face as he peered up at his dining companion under lowered lashes. "But what I remember most from that shoot was that the entire time, I couldn't stop watching you."

"How did you know you it was _me_ you were watching?" Kaoru kept his tone light, hiding just how much the answer meant to him.

Stefan's shoulders lifted in a Latinesque shrug. "Because I could see it, that the two of you weren't the same. Your brother… sometimes he would watch what was going on but most of the time it was clear that he was bored. Then he would come up with some mischief for the both of you to get into." Stefan's sea-blue eyes warmed from stormy to the color of the Mediterranean on a cloudless day. "You, though? You drank it all in. Every part of it fascinated you – the clothes, the hair and makeup, the poses the model and photographer chose. Even back then I could see it in you. That passion to create. To take something that exists only in your mind and give it life. And I just knew that someday… Someday you would be amazing." He lifted his beer in a silent toast. "And I was right."

* * *

They talked for hours, only leaving when a tiny, octogenarian woman emerged from the kitchen and unleashed a torrent of Swahili on one of the hapless waiters. He politely, but firmly, ushered them out, apologizing the whole time. Questions about how Stefan knew about the restaurant revealed he lived in the neighborhood so it was only natural that Kaoru should walk him home. Two years of intense training from Tamaki on how to be a gentleman demanded it.

When they reached the front stoop of Stefan's Empire style apartment house, the brunette lingered, not making a single move to go in. Unwillingness for the evening to end was writ on every part of his face. Placing one foot on the bottom step, he leaned back against the wrought iron railing, indecision shadowing his lovely, lovely eyes. Realization dawned on Kaoru that all his companion's self-assurance had been used up over the course of the evening and now his natural shyness was reasserting itself. The only way what they had between them would go anywhere was if Kaoru took the lead.

He didn't have time to date. Certainly not to date _seriously_. There was the upcoming show, and then others in London and Tokyo, a month long trip to China in the summer to talk to his manufacturers and, after all that was done, the whole round started over again. Even if he wanted… whatever this was or could be… his life would be a lot less complicated if he walked away. He was only twenty-two, there was plenty of time to find love when he was older.

But time was a precious gift that could be taken away without notice. That knowledge had been burned into his soul on a hot August day three years ago.

Gripping the railing to either side of his date, Kaoru caged Stefan between his arms. This close, his slight advantage in height had more of an impact. "Friday, nine-pm," he said with a tone light enough to turn it from an order to an invitation. "We'll have some drinks and go dancing."

Stefan's eyes flared with desire. The tip of his tongue darted out, tauntingly, to lick his lips and his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to swallow. Kaoru wanted to press his lips against it. And then lick his way over to nip the thick cord of muscle running along the side of Stefan's neck.

"O…Or…" Stefan stammered, "You could come up? We could watch a movie?"

Both men knew they wouldn't be watching a movie.

Every part of Kaoru's body yearned to accept the offer. But… he liked this guy. Really, really liked him. And he sure as hell didn't want to risk turning something that could be magical into just a long-winded hook-up.

Lifting his hand, Kaoru trailed his fingers along Stefan's hairline. "You have no idea how tempting that offer is." Curling his fingers around Stefan's nape, he closed the distance between them, fitting their bodies together as he captured the Italian's lips with his own. He took his time, luxuriating in the taste of full, soft lips. In the pliant way Stefan's mouth opened beneath him, inviting Kaoru's tongue inside to dance. In the sense of strength kept on a leash. Of control ceded but not abandoned.

Gods, even his kiss was perfect.

Reluctantly, Kaoru broke the kiss and stepped back. "Whatever this thing we have is, I think it could be something great. I don't want to jeopardize it by going too fast. So tonight… _tonight_ I don't want to come up."

He wasn't making any promises about restraining himself after Friday's date. He doubted he'd be able to keep them.

Stefan's hands held the railing behind him in a death grip, his chest heaving unsteadily and his breath coming out in pants, but he managed to pull himself together enough to manage a shaky nod.

A flurry of emotions raced through Kaoru - excitement, nervousness, desire, happiness - but dominating all of that was anticipation. A burst of optimism that the loneliness he'd had, the one that couldn't be filled by friends or family, might finally be satisfied. He ran the backs of his fingers over Stefan's cheek. "I'll pick you up at nine then. Until then…" Kaoru unleashed a more mature version of the smile which had once sparked the sexual awakening of more than one over-privileged teenage girl. "I hope you dream of me like I'll be dreaming of you."

* * *

_**One year later, another January** _

"Hika?"

"Hmm?" Hikaru's attention was fixated on his phone, thumbs flying to answer the steady stream of work emails that demanded his attention.

Kaoru sat down on the sofa next to him, hoping physical closeness would help soften any feelings of betrayal. "So… Stefan wants us to live together."

"About time. When do you want me to move out?" Hikaru's thumbs didn't even stutter.

"Uh… that's…" Kaoru shook his head. Hikaru's random acts of maturity never ceased to blindside him. "That's not necessary. This place is right across the bridge from your company, we're thinking of getting someplace closer to mine. Maybe Chelsea or Hell's Kitchen."

Hikaru shrugged and kept typing. "Cool."

"Hika?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you. You know that, right?"

Hikaru finally looked up from his phone. "Of course, you love me." Bemusement livened up his eyes and softened his expression. "I'm the best Onii-san ever!"

Kaoru said nothing – it was hard to argue with the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had another chapter planned but this Omake just seemed to fit with the overall story since it gives some backstory to Hikaru. Since it is Pride month, it felt serendipitous to publish it now. This is the first M/M romance I have ever written so I hope I managed to do all right. Please blame any mistakes I may have made about the gay dating scene, the fashion industry, or New York city on bad Google-fu.
> 
> One of the problems with writing chapter by chapter is when a detail changes because you come up with something better. I had written they met after one of Yuzuha's shows but changed it here to a photo shoot. I also inadvertently made Stefan about 4 inches shorter. I didn't change it though.


	19. Storms

"Ageha, your ribbon's coming untied." Hikaru beckoned the little girl hopping from one numbered chalk-outlined square to another towards the park bench he and Haruhi were occupying. "Come here, Onii-chan will fix it for you."

Stopping mid-hop, Ageha unfolded the leg tucked up against her body like a stork and reached back to check on the green bow holding her hair back off her face. "That's okay," she replied on finding it starting to unravel. "Dai-chan will fix it for me." The preschooler tossed a look over her shoulder at the boy waiting his turn at hop-scotch that was so full of femininity Haruhi had to hide a smile behind her hand. "Won't you Dai-chan?"

Hikaru looked mortally wounded but Daiki only shrugged. "Sure Ageha-chan. If that's what you want." With a happy little 'mew' the Hitachiin girl skipped over to let the hapless boy inexpertly tie her hair ribbon.

"Look, Ageha, the swings are free now," Hikaru wheedled, his voice holding more than a hint of desperation. Haruhi brought her other hand up to help keep back her chuckle. "Come on, Onii-chan will push you."

"That's okay, Dai-chan will do it." The little femme fatale batted her eyelashes at her oblivious target. "Won't you Dai-chan?"

Another shrug. "Ok, Ageha-chan. If that will make you happy."

Slipping her hand in his, she somehow managed to pull him towards the swing set while also rubbing her cheek against his arm like a cat marking her territory.

"Haruhi!" Hikaru wailed, slumping down on the seat next to her and drooping his forehead against her shoulder. "My  _imouto_  doesn't love me anymore!"

Haruhi lost the battle with her amusement, snorting so loud it echoed across the playground. "Sorry, sorry." She waved her hand in front of her face in apology. "I just can't help thinking that if the girls who scrambled around trying to get your attention in High School could see this, they'd consider it Karma."

"Fine, be that way. Mock my pain." Snapping up the bento she'd set between them, he opened the lid on the top layer. "Oooh –  _tamagoyaki_  cut in the shape of little hearts!" Hikaru grabbed one from the bento box and popped it into his mouth before she could stop him. "Yum! No wonder all the other mom's hate you."

With a stern look, she took the bento back, closed it firmly, and set it on the other side of her out of reach. "You heard about that?" she asked warily.

"Duh!" He rolled his eyes for emphasis. "Ageha's in the preschool. The entire lower school is caught up in the whole ' _kawaii_  bento' craze you started."

"It's really not my fault!" She protested, "I  _tried_  to have Daiki eat at the cafeteria. I didn't want him to have any more differences from his classmates than he already had. But then he complained that the food wasn't as good as mine and he gave me those damn puppy-dog eyes…"

"… and you caved, because those eyes could be Japan's second secret weapon after Honey, and now every kid at Ouran under the age of 12 is insisting on an adorable, elaborate bento hand-made by their very own mother and not a servant."

Haruhi crossed her arms over her chest mutinously. "Seriously - Not. My. Fault."

"Like I care," he chortled, "I think it's hilarious – all those women who never cooked a day in their life struggling to make an apple look like a bunny and unable to make their chef do it for them for fear of disappointing their precious darlings..."

"You're one to talk! You can't even boil water." She still remembered the smoking remains of her saucepan the night in Boston he'd tried to 'help' her make spaghetti.

He was unrepentant. "But it doesn't affect me, so it's funny. Now, Mom, on the other hand…"

Haruhi groaned. Great – another woman who resented her for winning a battle in a war she hadn't even realized was being fought.

"Don't worry." Hikaru's grin said she should very much worry. "Mom says she'll forgive you if you invite her to the super-secret-cooking-classes she heard you were giving."

"Super-secret?" Haruhi racked her mind for what he was referring to. "Wait, you mean the ones Fuyumi guilted me into giving her and some of her friends every weekend? They aren't exactly a secret."

"They may not be secret," he conceded, "but they are exclusive – or didn't you realize that Fuyumi's 'friends' at Ouran form the core of the Parent-Teacher Association, the Alumni Association, the Fundraising Committee, the School…."

"Really?" She shook her head thinking of the rather nice group of women who'd laughed their way through making octopus hot dogs and ham flowers yesterday afternoon. She should have known – Fuyumi might be a Shido now, but she was born and raised an Ootori. Networking was in the blood. Sometimes Haruhi felt she was still far too naïve about the way the world of the wealthy worked. "They seemed so… I don't know… normal. Well, I'm sure your mom would be welcome. Next week I'm going to show them how to make rice balls in the shape of animals."

A cool breeze stirred the hair at the back of her neck and she turned her face into it, alleviating some of the heat already beginning to build despite the early hour and overcast sky. Was it really almost summer already? April had turned into May before she knew it and now that month was nearly gone as well.

Since the move, the weeks had settled into a hectic rhythm. Monday through Friday, after getting herself ready and Daiki out of bed, they prepared breakfast and bentos, paid their respects at the  _butsudan_ , and got out the door by 6:30. Walking together down the driveway, they parted at the sidewalk – her towards the subway and him to his best friend's house. Fuyumi had offered to watch him, saying it was just as easy to get three children to school as two and the extra help in getting Takeru un-zombified in the morning was welcome. In addition to the bad eyesight, the boy had also inherited his uncle's 'low blood-sugar demon' nature.

For some unexplained reason, a neighborhood policeman 'just happened' to have his rounds take him past the Fujioka residence and along the route to the Shido mansion right as she as Daiki left. Even when they were running early. Or late. She didn't ask Kyoya about the coincidence. Some things were just too obvious to bother with.

The morning and early afternoon were spent in their respective schools, after which their itineraries departed. Shima picked up her rambunctious charge after school, taking him first to the Haninozuka-run karate class Haruhi's two sempai had recommended after the bullying incident ( _'It's not just about learning how to fight, Haru-chan, but also how_ not  _to,'_ said one.  _'Hn,'_  added the other _)_ and then to the Suohs where he and Anne-Sophie played piano, ate cookies, and drank hot cocoa.

The remainder of Haruhi's day was spent at her internship where, as Kyoya had predicted, she did not have to serve the tea. Perhaps as a result of all the 'networking,' she had been assigned to the team supporting the firm's top attorney. When she was sixteen, the idea of that would have bothered her. Now she was experienced enough to realize that personal connections only got you an opportunity, hard-work and ability were what let you make the most of it. As the most junior member of the team, she'd only spoken with her boss once, to introduce herself, but just the chance to watch how the woman organized her cases and planned her defenses was worth a hundred classes.

Once back home, the Fujiokas shared a quiet dinner and spent some time playing or watching TV before bath, story, and bed for Daiki – after which Haruhi worked on homework until her own bedtime. And then she woke up to repeat the day all over again.

Weekends were less formulaic but no less routine. Friday or Saturday, Kyoya would escort her somewhere and her newly acquired wardrobe was getting a workout. What had started with his mother's fundraisers quickly evolved to encompass high-society functions of all kinds and they were no longer just due to  _his_  commitments. Once people realized she was back in town,  _she'd_  started receiving invitations of her own - mostly to events hosted by her former classmates and Host Club guests. Last week, it had been a first birthday party for Soga Momoka's son.

Featuring a performance by Cirque du Soleil.

Damn Rich People.

Sunday afternoons were reserved for an outing with the Hitachiins (mostly the oldest and youngest siblings while the middle one went on a date) and the rest of the time was a mix of study groups, luncheons with the Suohs, girls' days with Hana and Reiko, tea with the Kasanodas, play dates with Takeru and other friends, dinners with Honey and Mori, trips out of town with the extended host club, and (if she were really, really lucky) she was able to fit in the grocery shopping. Her life was busier than when she'd been working two jobs, going to school, and raising a child by herself.

She loved every minute of it.

For the first time in almost six years, all the pieces of her life just… fit. Like when you put in that one piece of a puzzle that made everything else snap together to form a solid frame. Closing her eyes, she smiled as the wind caressed her face. She hadn't asked for any of this – had been manipulated into it, in fact – but now she couldn't imagine her life being any different. Didn't want it to be. Everything was perfect just as it was and she didn't want it, any of it, to change.

Hikaru paused in the midst snatching the bento back while Haruhi's eyes were closed, utterly entranced. Haruhi in  _any_  mood was gorgeous but when she was like this – relaxed, content, peaceful – it made his heart ache to look at her. The air stirred, lifting a lock of her hair and playing with it. For a second, he wished he were the wind – free to touch her as he wanted. Free to run his fingertips up along her cheekbone, capture the unruly strand of hair, and wind it around his fingers until she couldn't escape.

Before he could give into the compulsion, the spell snapped. Opening her eyes, Haruhi turned towards him and spotted the hand hovering above the bento. "Stop that." She lightly rapped his wrist with her fingers. "It's for the kids."

"Awww! But I love your cooking!" Haruhi's eyes narrowed in the face of his whining and he huffed dramatically. "Fine. I'll just have something out of  _my_  bento then."

She snorted. "You? Brought your own lunch? Now  _that_  I have to see."

Smirking, he reached into his backpack and pulled out the lunch he'd had one of the chefs prepare for him earlier. Opening the lid of the picnic-sized box, his smirk deepened as he watched her eyes widen. Knowing Haruhi, her mouth was already watering over the rows of sushi, lightly-seared wagyu beef, matsutake mushroom salad with infused garlic oil, Alaskan King Crab dumplings, and tiny, heart-shaped tarts topped with strawberries.

Picking up the  _otoro_  he'd had the chef pack especially for her, he hovered it in front of her lips. "Want a piece?" he drawled in his most seductive voice, "I owe you for the  _tamagoyaki_."

She reached up to take it, but he pulled it out of reach – only returning it to its position when her hand dropped back to her lap. Hikaru chuckled, she'd become much less dense about his attempts to flirt, although she still didn't take them seriously. As fun as flirting with the oblivious Haruhi had been, he liked it when she attempted to fight back better. Those were the times when he knew he unsettled her, made her just a little aware that he was a man.

The struggle between desire for her favorite food and the wish to avoid public impropriety waged a war across her features until, inevitably, the first side won. Such a glutton! She delicately wrapped her lips around the proffered offering, sucked it off his fingers, closed her eyes in rapture, and moaned in pleasure. Shifting uncomfortably on the bench, Hikaru realized he'd lost the game –  _he_  was now the one far too aware that  _she_  was a woman.

A piece of rice clung to her cheek. "You missed a bit." Catching her eyes with his, he wiped it off with his thumb, and lapped it up with his tongue.

Haruhi's jaw clenched and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Just when are you guys going back to New York, anyway?"

He clutched his chest as if stabbed. "Tired of us already? But we missed you sooooooo much!"

"Not really -" Her mock anger over his antics dissipated in a flash. "- it's been fun being around you guys again. But, I was just thinking about how fast the time's gone. Can you and Kaoru afford to stay away from your companies this long?"

It was so sweet, the way she worried about everyone besides herself. "Kao will have to go back soon – the next fashion week is in September. But I can do my job remote. Half my team is up all night working away like the busy little code-monkeys I pay them to be so the time difference doesn't matter. We'll be here through our birthday, though." He put one finger up to his lips in a 'shushing' motion and winked. "It's a secret – but Kao and Stefan are going to officially announce their engagement then."

"That's wonderful!" Her eyes glowed with delight. "I'm so glad Kaoru said yes. I could tell he wanted to."

Another breeze, this one stronger, lifted her hair to the side. Hikaru paused his reply, glancing up to the clouds gathering overhead, and switched topics. "Why don't we head over to my house for lunch?"

Haruhi's brow knit together. "Why? I have plenty of food and the kids are having fun." She waved at where the two younger members of the party had abandoned the swings for romping on the climbing bars.

"Yes, but…" Hikaru looked up pointedly. "…the clouds are coming in and the weather report said there might be a storm."

Her brow smoothed out. "Oh. That's… actually, that is really considerate of you." She gave him a smile that made him feel like he'd just been handed a 'Game of the Year' award. "But, it's okay. Thunder doesn't bother me that much anymore." Her head nodded towards Daiki. "When you have someone who's wholly dependent on you, you learn how to cope."

Hikaru stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Oi, chibis! Let's go watch a movie at our house."

As the children stopped their playing and raced toward the bench, he turned to look at Haruhi. "Learning to cope isn't the same as not being afraid anymore, right?"

"Onii-chan! I want to watch  _Frozen!"_  Ageha turned wide, whisky-colored eyes on her brother.

Hikaru's winced. "Ano… Ageha, maybe another…"

"Dai-chan wants to watch it too." She played her trump card. "Don't you Dai-chan?"

"Sure." Shrug. "I guess."

"Yaaay!" Ageha shouted and started skipping towards the waiting car and driver, singing "Fro-zen, Fro-zen, Fro-zen," as she went.

"Oh god," Hikaru muttered, helping Haruhi to gather the bentos, "Kill me now."

Haruhi giggled. "It can't be that bad."

"You mean, you haven't seen it?" He shook his head. "Oh, right. You have a boy. Tell me that once you've been forced to watch it thirty times, have that damn song so stuck in your head it shows up in your dreams, and spent an entire month helping your brother sew a Princess Elsa-themed wardrobe for Christmas."

She snorted again, as if she thought he was exaggerating. But she'd learn. Oh yes, she'd learn….

* * *

' _Ari no mama no sugata miseru no yo'_

"Oh sweet Buddha, kill me now." Haruhi muttered under her breath as the duo started up their infernal chorus for what seemed the hundredth time.

' _Ari no mama no jibun ni naru no'_

Hikaru sniggered. "I warned you. That movie was designed in the bowels of hell to torment anyone with a girl under the age of ten."

' _Nanimo kowakunai'_

He nodded towards where Daiki was just as enthusiastically throwing his arms out wide and declaring he wasn't afraid of anything. "Or, apparently  _any_  child under ten."

' _Kaze yo fuke'_

Haruhi shook her head ruefully. "This is the first time I've felt happy we couldn't afford to go to movies in Sapporo." Finally, poverty had at least one advantage over wealth.

' _Sukoshi mo samukunai wa'_

Hikaru clapped his hands together loud enough to temporarily halt the proclamations that neither of them were the least bit cold. "Ageha, why don't you show Ki-chan your Princess Elsa and Princess Anna collection? I'll send your snack up to your room – you can have a tea party."

Ageha sparkled at the suggestion and she grabbed Daiki's hand. "C'mon, I'll model all my dresses for you and you can tell me how pretty I look!"

Both adults heaved a sigh of relief the minute the two were out of sight, the echoes of ' _Ari no Mama de'_  bouncing off the hall and echoing down the stairwell behind them. Catching each other in the act, they shared a smile and laugh.

"The staff is laying out some food and drinks for the grown-ups out in the garden." With an unusual gallantness, Hikaru extended his arm and gave a slight bow. "This way, princess."

"Are you trying to host me?" She crossed her arms over her chest, recognizing the move all too well.

"Maybe." Hikaru waggled his eyebrows. "Is it working?"

"Idiot." She punched him in the shoulder, but took his arm anyway. Escorting her onto the patio overlooking the back garden, she noted that the storm had passed while they watched the movie in the Hitachiin's private theater, leaving behind the fresh scent of grass and a cloudless sky.

Hikaru continued with his impression of a courteous 'host,' pulling back one of the white, wrought iron chairs for her to sit in before taking the other. The table, complete with fine linen tablecloth, was set just liked she remembered the club doing on 'English Tea Party' days – with a floral patterned tea set of the finest porcelain, two three-tiered serving dishes (one piled high with savories and the other with sweets), and one whole strawberry cream cake. The two champagne glasses and bottle chilling next to the table were a new, and welcome, addition.

Opting to indulge, Haruhi allowed him to poor her a glass of something that most likely would have cost her three months' rent last year. "Oh. I like this!" She exclaimed. It was a bit sweeter than what she'd tried before, more like a soda, and bubbly enough to tickle her nose.

"Thought you would." He winked. "I told the butler to find the cheapest, most common label in dad's wine cellar."

"Ass." She took another sip, letting the alcohol, the sunshine, and the good company relax her. "I'm glad you thought of the movie. I couldn't hear the thunder at all – you were right, just because I've learned how to function despite the fear doesn't mean I don't feel it. It was… really nice of you."

He waved away her gratitude. "That's what friends are for, right? His smile hit her chest like a burst of sunshine.

It was the champagne. It had to be.

Gripped by a feeling she didn't understand, she smiled back. "You really have changed. Everyone kept saying it, but now I see it. You've started letting people in, haven't you? Caring for them and letting them care for you in return?"

Hikaru didn't answer. A strange expression crossed his face and he tossed back the rest of his champagne in one go. Setting the glass back on the table, he leaned forward on his elbows and stared at her intently. "Haruhi, go out with me."

Her mouth felt unaccountably dry and her heart started fluttering like a trapped bird banging it's wings against a cage. Swallowing hard, she turned her head to the side and fiddled with her hair, tucking a strand of it behind her left ear. "Sure. Mid-terms are coming up, but we should have time the weekend after next. If it's nice, maybe we can take the kids hiking."

"No." His vehement denial made her look up. There was no hint of anger in his eyes, but they grew even more intense and she shifted nervously in her seat. "You don't get to act dense. Not about this. I don't know if you really don't recognize that I'm interested in you or you just don't believe I mean it, but let me be clear - I don't mean another family outing.

"I like Ki-chan, but I want  _you_ to go out with  _me_. Just the two of us. From the moment I saw you again, I realized that I liked you. That I  _still_ liked you – I don't think I ever stopped. But it's more than just some crush from high school. The way you are now, the person you've grown into, is just so amazing it's… it's unbelievable."

His gaze was ferocious. Consuming. Like she was the only thing he could see. The only person in his world. "I'm in love with you, Haruhi - please be my girlfriend."

She couldn't breathe. Desperately, she drained her glass as confusion whirled around her like thunder. "Hikaru… I…. I…"

Getting up, he came around and knelt next to her chair. "Geez, Haruhi," he said wryly, "I didn't realize my confessing would drive you to drink." A strangled laugh forced its way past her lips. "It's okay if you take your time. I don't need an answer right now. Although," he tilted his head slyly, "I wouldn't mind having you as my date to my birthday party. You know, if that helps you with your answer."

This time her laugh was more genuine and suddenly she could inhale again. Could think again. "Hikaru, I…"

"Oh, gods – please don't say 'no' without thinking it through a little longer." He placed a hand on his chest and struck a forlorn pose. "I don't know if my delicate ego could recover."

"Idiot," she said fondly, grateful he'd found a way to settle the emotions which had overwhelmed her. Drawing his left hand into hers so he'd listen, she met his eyes. "Hikaru, I… I just don't know _._ " She shook her head gently. "It's not that I don't know about you - I don't know about  _anyone._  I haven't…" She shrugged. "I haven't even thought about dating since…"

He squeezed her hand, bringing his other up to stroke her hair. "Okay. I get it." Stepping back, he broke contact and returned to his chair. "I still don't need an answer right now. Please, think about it. Promise that you'll really consider  _me_ , the me that I am now. If I still end up being second to  _tono_  in your heart then…" He smiled wanly. "Then I guess I'll just have to live with it."

Sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth, Haruhi reflected on what he was asking. She had just started enjoying her new life and hadn't wanted anything to change. Now, whatever her answer, it was going to one way or the other.

"Okay." She nodded. "I'll think about it." The way his face lit up made her feel guilty. What if she were only getting his hopes up? What if she'd already had the one great love of her life? What if they could never be more than friends? And why did the thought of that make her feel so despondent?

' _Mother, Father, Tamaki – what the hell am I supposed to do?'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the main story line! Thanks for putting up with my indulgence, I just had to get the Kaoru/Stefan plot bunny out of my head. Thanks to anyone who's left a kudo or a comment - little things like that are what keep me writing. If you like what you read, please R&R.


	20. Chances

Daiki launched himself forward, running across the lawn as fast as he could. When he hit the outstretched hand, he used it as a lever to tilt forward and touch the ground, flipped his feet over his head and landed in a crouch. Wobbling, he struggled to hold his balance but lost the battle, tilting over on his side in slow-motion.

Jumping to his feet, he turned to his spotter and bounced up and down like a puppy. "Did you see? Did you see, Mori-jii? I didn't land on my butt this time!"

The oldest host ruffled the boy's hair, replying with his trademarked, "Hn."

On the Haninozuka's back terrace, Haruhi smiled and sipped her after-dinner tea, watching while Mori patiently showed the little boy what adjustments to make for his next attempt. Even had there been no entertainment, facing this direction was more conducive to digestion than looking at the house behind her.

The mansion Honey and Reiko had moved into after their wedding was… unique. In its own way, it suited the couple perfectly but Haruhi couldn't shake her feeling that a Japanese house just shouldn't be so over-burdened with turrets, trim, wrought-iron, and steeply pointed roofs. And, if it was, then it definitely shouldn't be painted in a garish shade of Usa-chan pink.

Hearing the French doors open, she turned her head and smiled at Honey as he came back outside. "How's Reiko-chan feeling?"

"Good. She's just tired so I made her go take a nap."

"It's only going to get worse," Haruhi sympathized, "From about the sixth month on I could barely keep my eyes open."

Honey flopped down into the black, wrought-iron patio chair next to her and beamed. "It's good she has you to talk to about these things, Haru-chan." A plate of cookies miraculously appeared on the center of their table, the servant who brought them melting into the background so quickly she barely registered on Haruhi's awareness.

Blushing uncomfortably at the praise, Haruhi turned back to watch the lawn acrobatics and changed the subject. "I'm sorry Hana-chan couldn't make it." Mori's fiancée had chosen not to commute from her university this weekend, using the time to prepare for mid-terms.

"She gets  _very_  serious around exam time." Honey dunked a cookie in his tea with a meticulousness worthy of a trained artisan. "Veterinary medicine is even harder than the human kind."

"I guess it would be." Haruhi's lips twitched. "A dog and a parrot are pretty different, after all, but humans are all basically the same."

On the lawn, Daiki completed another front hand-spring, this time managing to hold his crouch almost long enough to rise. When done, he waved excitedly and she dutifully returned it.

"Haru-chan," Honey's voice slipped from happy lilt to solemn in an instant. "What's wrong?"

Her head whipped around to face him, denial already formed on her lips, but the eyes she met were too perceptive for her to lie.

"You've been distracted all evening." He dunked another cookie and nonchalantly nibbled the edges, but she felt his attention focused on her like a laser beam. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it but, if you're okay that it's me, I'll listen to whatever you have to say."

Haruhi hesitated. All week long, she'd been turning over Hikaru's confession and her own confused thoughts in her mind. It was even interfering with her studies! Every time she thought she'd come to a decision, to some resolution, her mind shifted again.

She was growing weary of struggling with something so complex alone.

Lately, she'd taken to discussing anything troubling her – whether academic or mundane - over with Kyoya. He was smart, insightful, and good at letting her just talk her way through something. But, he was out of town on business and, anyway, her instincts told her this wasn't the right topic for him. Not for Tamaki's best friend.

None of her girlfriends felt like the right person to confide in either. Mei's relationship with the twins was downright antagonistic, Hana and Fuyumi she was only just getting to know, and Reiko… was Reiko. As much as she desired to preserve Hikaru's privacy, as well as her own, having a sounding board would be nice – and she could do far worse than her deceptively wise senior.

Breathing in to brace herself, on the exhale she let everything tumble out. "Hikaru confessed to me."

Honey nodded and ate another cookie.

"You don't seem surprised?"

"You were the first person to enter the twins' world. Hika-chan's never resolved his feelings for you. Not really. Now that you're in his life again, it's normal that they would come back." Tilting his head to the side, he pierced her with a look. "So, how do you feel about him?"

"I… I don't know." She watched her fingers play along the edges of her teacup, tracing the line of the handle up and down. "I don't think I love him, not the way he wants."

Honey's shoulder lifted in a shrug. "I didn't love Rei-chan when we started dating. Sometimes dating is how you find out whether you  _could_  love someone."

"I know. But…" Folding her hands, she set them in her lap to stop the fidgeting and raised her head. "When my mother died, my father swore not to love again."

Honey nodded sagely, "Ah. I thought that might be what had you worried."

Gazing out at the figures on the lawn, she felt tears prickle the back of her eyes, threatening to fall. "I have a man I love. I have a child with him. If… if I started dating again. If I even  _wanted_  to, isn't that an admission that our love wasn't real? That everything we had, that everything we  _have…_ " She dipped her head towards her son. "…wasn't meant to be? That, maybe, Tamaki wasn't my destined one after all?"

It took the remainder of the plate of cookies before Honey answered. "Woman." He proclaimed, wiping the crumbs off his face with his napkin.

"Huh?" Haruhi's wrinkled her brow at him.

"Woman. Ranka-san vowed not to love another  _woman_  after your mother died. He didn't cut himself off from love completely. And that was the right choice for him." Leaning forward, he cupped his chin with his hands. "Haru-chan, this isn't about anything else but  _your_ happiness. Don't think about what anyone else wants or what people would think. What is it that  _you_  want?

"If you're satisfied with loving one person your whole life, then it's okay to do that. But Tama-chan isn't the kind of person who would want the girl he loves to be lonely or unhappy, even if it meant she fell in love with someone else. And nobody who knows you, who cares about you, would judge you for choosing to move on. So, if you want to date – that's okay too. And you don't need to decide your whole future right now. If you just don't know, then it's okay to  _try_ and figure it out as you go along."

His eyes welled with understanding and unconditional acceptance of whatever path she chose. Whatever direction was the right one for  _her._  The confusion and doubt she'd wrestled with subsided, leaving her free to think. To really consider what it was she wanted. Holding his gaze, she gave the barest flicker of acknowledgement.

"Mama! Mama! Did you see? I did a hand-spring all by myself." Daiki bounded up the steps to her, a sedate Mori following behind.

Breaking eye-contact, she enveloped Daiki in a hug. "I did. I'm really proud of you." Standing up, she said, "It's time to go home now, though. Thank Mori-jii nicely for teaching you."

Daiki plastered himself against Mori's legs with squeals of gratitude.

"Dai-chan," Honey said, "I bet if you ask Cook nicely she'll give you some cookies to take home." Catching Haruhi's narrowed eyes, he corrected himself. "If it's okay with your Okaa-chan."

The little boy turned his killer puppy dog eyes on his mother and she ruefully agreed. Mori and Honey exchanged a look of their own, which resulted in Mori leading the child off toward the kitchen. As Haruhi turned to follow, Honey grasped her wrist, forcing her to turn around. "Haru-chan, just remember that it's possible to have more than one 'destined' one. When you love someone and lose them, the only thing you owe them – and yourself – is that you won't settle for a love that's anything less than what you've already experienced."

* * *

"Hey." Hikaru took the booth seat opposite her with a tentativeness that bordered on awkward.

"Hi. Thanks for coming. Did you want something to drink?" Haruhi gestured towards the barista. "I'll pay since I invited you out."

"Nah, that's okay. Don't think I can drink anything." His mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. "Too busy worrying you're planning to reject me in a public place so I don't make a scene."

Despite the subtle tension between them, she couldn't keep from rolling her eyes. "I'd be more afraid that you'd make a scene just  _because_  it's a public place."

"And you'd be right!" he sniggered. After a second, his face sobered. "Does the fact that you're talking to me again after almost a whole week mean you have an answer for me?"

When she hesitated in replying, he waved his hands in front of him. "No, it's okay - I told you I could wait. I just… I just don't want you to keep your distance from me anymore." Running his hands through his hair, he managed to make it look even more artfully disheveled. "I'm sorry if I went too fast but… I was tired of pretending. If nothing else, I wanted you to know how I feel."

Haruhi laced her fingers around her coffee and stared into it. After a late night spent pondering Honey's words, she had come to a decision. Of sorts. She'd even planned what to say, but now she couldn't seem to remember how to start.

"You know what," Hikaru murmured, "I think I will have something to drink." He motioned her to remain seated and walked over to the counter to place his order. Haruhi smiled at his back, understanding that he was giving her time to compose herself. Another small tick mark in the mental column tracking his maturity.

When he returned to his seat, she was ready. Reaching her hand out, she touched the back of his. "Hikaru, I'm not in love with you."

His shoulders slumped but his expression was unchanged, as if this had been the result he expected all along.

"But…" On this his eyes flew to hers, glowing like pieces of amber as hope replaced resignation. "But I can't say that I couldn't come to like you that way either. There's… there's a lot of things I just don't know about right now. I don't even know if I'm the kind who can love again. If I did accept, if we dated, it would be very unfair to you."

Hikaru turned his hand up, grasping hers between his fingers. His thumb grazed across her knuckles, sending little flickers of warmth racing up her arm. "Haruhi, I don't think what I feel would be love if I couldn't be patient. If you need time sorting out how you feel, I can deal with that. But, as long as you haven't ruled me out, as long as you're considering me, then I want to date you." His Cheshire cat grin held an edge of something else, something more, and her stomach turned a lazy flip in response "Let's… start as friends and see where it goes."

Haruhi breathed slowly, in-and-out. There were so many things she wasn't sure about but, for the first time since her future had gone from settled to uncertain in an instant, she was willing to try. Was willing to take a chance. "If… if you're sure…"

His smile broadened even further. "I am. I absolutely am."

"Then…" She bobbed her head, her words coming out in a rush. "Then please take care of me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but it seems like the most pivotal chapters always end up being shorter than I thought they would be. Perhaps it's because the more important something is to say, the fewer words you use.
> 
> Thanks to anyone who Kudo'd and to the folks who left a comment in the middle of a holiday week. If you like, please R&R.


	21. Timing

In business, timing was everything. A deal closed too early could be every bit as disastrous as one closed too late. Anyone could open a business and eke a living out of it but real success, the type with true merit, lay in finding that perfect moment of synchronicity between the right idea, the right people, and the right time.

This was not that moment.

"So, in conclusion, Ootori-san, our web property will be a cross between TMZ and the Wall Street Journal." The tawny-haired man's words ran together faster now the end game was in sight. "Covering the hidden relationships, the  _personal_ relationships, between businesses in a breezy, off-beat manner using a multi-platform approach that appeals to a younger, modern readership."

"Thank you for the summary, Ukyo-san. I  _did_  read the prospectus you sent." Kyoya flipped through the pages of the spiral-bound report emblazoned on every page with a gaudy 'BizzFeed-dot-jp' logo. The extraneous 'Z' alone was enough to give him a migraine and that was  _before_  grappling with the potential copyright infringement.

Why on earth had he established a policy of handling all potential new business stemming from Ouran alumni in person?

"What you haven't told me," he drawled, coming back to the matter at hand, "Is why you want to invest your time and energy in this…" Gossip rag. Tabloid. Scandal sheet. "…enterprise in the first place."

Ukyo Chikage froze like a hamster suddenly realizing the length of rope he was playing with was a cobra. "Ano.." His brow furrowed with disbelief that the question bore asking. "B-because it would make a lot of money?"

Kyoya sighed heavily. Done right, it probably would. It would also make an enemy out of every prominent family in the country. Possibly in all of East Asia.

Definitely not a project his father would approve of.

But, more importantly, it was vulgar. Just because people – commoner or aristocratic – had an innate desire to be both titillated and outraged by the secrets and scandals of others didn't mean  _he_  was required to satisfy it.

Kyoya turned his predator's gaze on the taller man sitting to Ukyo's right who had slumped imperceptibly even further in his chair during his partner's answer. "And you, Sakyo-san? Are you in this for profit as well?

Sakyo Tomochika flushed. "I do think it will make money, but…" Ducking his head, he smiled ruefully. "To be honest, being part of the newspaper club was one of the best parts of my life, even if our president could be…"

"Unhinged?" Kyoya offered.

"….demanding." Sakyo's sigh held more than a hint of longing. "I just want to be part of something that makes me feel that way again."

"Your family owns one of the largest magazine publishing empires in Asia. Had you considered taking the idea to them?"

Sakyo shrugged. "I'm just the son of a branch family – a salaryman they put wherever they have a slot they need a warm body to fill. If they liked the idea, they'd give me a small bonus and turn the project over to somebody else. Although…" He blushed a deeper red. "This isn't exactly the type of thing they would be interested in."

Kyoya lifted an eyebrow. "Quite. I doubt many established companies would be interested in something guaranteed to make many powerful enemies and I agree with them. I see no merit in having my name be associated with something this… tawdry." He gave Ukyo a smile thinner than the edge of a knife. "As former Ouran students, I heard your proposal out as a courtesy. Thank you, but I decline."

"Tawdry!" Ukyo jumped to his feet. "You've invested in Houshakouji's pornographic drawings and partnered with a yakuza brat and you're calling my idea tawdry!"

"My secretary will see you out." Kyoya ignored the outburst and pressed a button on his desk to summon her.

"Forget it. Come on, Tomo, we're leaving." The blonde stormed out, almost colliding with the woman just opening the door before brushing past her. His taller friend gave an embarrassed bow and turned to follow.

"Sakyo-san." Kyoya held him back after his partner had left the room. "I saw some of your photographs at the Ouran Art Auction, they were quite good. I even bid on one myself." He pulled a business card out of the top right-hand drawer of his desk. "My mother would like to talk with you about donating your work for some of her charity auctions."

He held the card out, waiting to see if the man would take the bait.

Sakyo teetered on the balls of his feet for a second before striding forward to accept it. "Your mother has excellent taste – it's an honor she considers my work good enough."

"I sympathize with anyone who feels limited by their circumstances, but this project is beneath someone with your talents." Kyoya held his gaze. "Come back when you have a better idea, one you can fully stand behind, I'll hear you out then."

Sakyo's face lit up and he bowed before allowing the secretary to usher him out. "Thank you, Ootori-san. I will."

After they left, Kyoya opened his laptop to update his files on the two men. One set of comments was considerably less flattering than the other.

* * *

Hours later, a polite knock on his doorjamb pulled his attention away from reading the financial report on a company one of his clients was considering acquiring. Just as well, he'd have to recommend they pass on the opportunity. Despite promising profits last year, a detailed analysis showed a fundamental flaw – their product was simply inferior to that of an upstart competitor. Some things no amount of restructuring or management adjustments could fix. After adding that item to his never ending 'to do' list, he looked up at his secretary.

" _Kaicho,_ your 4:00 appointment is on their way up." The woman in the doorway appeared unfazed by the earlier altercation. But then, that was half the reason he hired her.

"Thank you, Hayashi-san." Standing up, he walked around the desk and followed her towards the lobby.

As they stood waiting for the elevator to complete its journey, Kyoya considered the middle-aged woman beside him, dressed as always in an office worker's black suit without a speck of lint and a perfectly pressed white blouse. Her presence was, in its own way, another example of timing. Had he launched his fledgling company earlier, Hayashi Nanako would have still been at home with her three children and a husband who brought nothing to the relationship but debt. Had it been any later, she might have already resigned herself to working at one of the low-paying, part-time jobs available to divorced women with little work history.

As it was, when he'd shown up the day of the interviews to find her there three hours early, resume in hand, and a look in her eye suggesting she was assessing his suitability to be her boss, he'd known it to be one of those perfect moments of synchronicity he had built his reputation, and his wealth, upon. Where other companies only saw her age and marital status, dismissing her as too old for lower level positions and unable to work long hours due to family commitments, he had seen a sharp mind, an iron will, and someone desperate enough to take part of her salary in stock options.

With her assistance, the small firm Kyoya had founded two years ago thrived and grew to add five more analysts and a second general affairs assistant. Offering an unusual mix of services – part angel funding, part financial and management consulting – his team routinely handled transactions in the billions of yen and his success had landed Kyoya the #1 spot in a leading economic magazine's recent list of the 'Top 30 to Watch Under 30'.

To say that Ootori Yoshio had not been happy when his youngest son had proposed leaving the family company, at least on paper, would be an understatement akin to describing Mori as of 'above average height.' It had taken all of his persuasive talents to convince the Ootori patriarch to allow it, although he had some help from his brothers who saw this as him conceding the race for heir instead of recognizing it for the alternate path it was.

In the end, his father had been won over by two things – first, that contracting Kyoya's expertise as needed was more cost-efficient than providing a full-time salary and, second, that it was yet another arena for the Ootori name to garner respect and influence.

That Kyoya would be successful and bring merit to the family was not something either man questioned.

But, what his father didn't realize was that, while the Ootori Group was still one of Kyoya's most prominent clients, he'd carefully grown his revenue stream so that it was not his biggest. It never hurt to have a fall back plan just in case the funding ever dried up. For  _whatever_ reason.

_*ding*_

Kyoya allowed his usual business mask to relax as the elevator doors opened on two familiar figures.

"Kyo-chan!" Honey bounded out of the elevator, stopping just short of hugging the younger man. "How was Shanghai?"

"It was… interesting. I'll review my findings further during our meeting."

Hayashi bowed low to each newcomer in turn. "Haninozuka-sama, Morinozuka-sama. Welcome, I have the conference room ready, please follow me."

Honey drew up next to her on the way. The woman's face softened as the sweet-natured host drew her into a conversation about her children that lasted until the men had been settled around the table and provided with water (Kyoya and Mori) and a sugary-sweet soft drink (Honey). Confirming everyone was comfortable, she slid into her seat and Kyoya called the meeting to order.

"Gentlemen, we'll begin with a discussion on the viability of expanding 'Honey Bunny's' cafes into the Chinese market. Please turn to page one in the report in front of you…"

* * *

"…Hayashi-san, please let the record note that all recommended budget adjustments for Q3 have been accepted and will be passed on to the management team." Kyoya looked up from the stack of bound reports before him. "Now, before we deal with the last item on the agenda, is there any new business."

The cousins looked at each other before turning back to their  _kohai._  "Takashi and I don't have anything to add, Kyo-chan. You covered everything."

"Hn."

Kyoya inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Hayashi-san, if you will please bring in my surprise?"

Rising gracefully from her seat, she bowed and sailed out the door.

Honey's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Ooooh! Kyo-chan, is this what I think it is?" He bounced up and down in his chair like the twelve year old he resembled.

Kyoya gave an enigmatic half-smile. "Honey-sempai, despite my reputation otherwise, I have no mind reading abilities and can't speak to what exactly you might be thinking."

At their junior's teasing, Honey pouted and Mori's lips curved up for a fraction of an instant.

Hayashi returned quickly, accompanied by a younger woman. Each one carried a tray containing two round mid-sized cakes and four plates of cake samples. The women carefully placed their cakes in the center of the conference table and arranged the samples in the same left-to-right order in front of the two visitors before withdrawing.

Kyoya suppressed a smile at how Honey was visibly struggling to resist plunging into the feast before him. He hurried to begin his explanation before his  _sempai's_ will broke down completely.

"As requested at our March meeting, I've researched Honey's idea of a cross-promotion between 'Honey Bunny's' and Mori's wildlife sanctuary. Focus groups consisting of regular customers in the 18-35 female demographic showed strong support for the idea both in theory and when presented with examples. Before you are the highest scoring of the options presented."

Using his hand, he indicated each cake in turn, starting from the one on the left. "First, a panda - marble cake with vanilla frosting."

Honey inhaled his sample while Mori dipped his fork in for a tiny, precise bite. The dessert gourmand's happy nod and muffled 'mmmmmmm' was a ringing endorsement.

Kyoya indicated the second and third cakes in turn. "A nostalgic tanuki cake - traditional Japanese shortbread with a rich chocolate icing. And a red fox – red velvet with sweetened cream cheese."

"Oooooh – I like that one. Very sweet."

Kyoya made a note that the cake might be too rich for anyone other than a sugar fiend. "And, finally, a signature Honey Bunny's pink rabbit mascot cake – white angel food layered with fresh strawberries and a light whipped cream frosting."

"Yum!" Honey's eyes widened in pleasure. "This one's the best!"

"It's good," added Mori, indicating enthusiastic support.

Kyoya gave a satisfied smile. "I propose we offer these as retail for only one week in each new location they're offered at and then restrict them to pre-order to reduce wastage and give the illusion of exclusivity. We'll set the price point at 4000 yen with additional cost if the customer wishes to specify the flavor. After costs, 10% will go to the wildlife sanctuary."

"30," Mori stated. Obsidian eyes locked with steel gray, neither one budging. "It's profit, you can be generous."

"15" Kyoya countered, "The cakes will be competing with other profitable products and we don't want to decrease revenue."

"25."

"20."

"Hn." Mori nodded sharply.

"Yaay! This will be great publicity for everyone, ne?" Honey reached out towards the cartoonish bunny rabbit cake.

"Mitskuni," Mori grumbled a warning and Honey's hands froze in mid-air.

"It's okay, Takashi." He widened his eyes innocently and fluttered his eyelashes. "I haven't had any cake at all the whole week!"

Kyoya hid a snicker – it was Monday.

Business concluded, he motioned them towards an alcove containing a sofa and chairs he used for more informal meetings. "If the two of you have time to stay, there's a more personal matter I'd like to discuss."

Mori grunted, but allowed himself to be distracted from the argument with his cousin. Honey brought the tray of cakes with him and perched on the arm of the sofa Mori sat on. After fixing them their usual drinks from the bar he kept stocked for such occasions – sake for the oldest host, a nauseatingly sweet wine cooler which the youngest looking one didn't seem to mind pairing with cake, and a whisky for himself – Kyoya settled into the arm chair to Mori's left.

Taking a sip of his drink, he savored the pleasant warmth while allowing the demands of work recede for just a little while. When they'd first launched the café chain together, he'd deliberately scheduled their meetings for late in the day to free them from pressure to return to work afterwards. Between the demands of their businesses and family, it was often the only time they could spend time together socially.

At least, it had been until Haruhi had returned to once again bond them together. Just one more of the countless ways her absence had diminished them all.

"What did you want to talk about?" Honey asked, licking cream cheese icing off his fingers.

"The twin's birthday party on Friday." He paused to be sure he had their full attention. "My information tells me that Kaoru and Stefan will be announcing their engagement."

The loli-shota's eyes brightened. "Really? That's great! Takashi and I think Stefan's really good for Kao-chan."

"It's good Kaoru is settling down," added the man who'd proposed on the third date.

"I agree." Kyoya took a measured sip of his whisky. "However, it is likely to generate some controversy. By announcing this in Japan, Kaoru will be catapulting himself to the forefront of the debate on same-sex marriage in this country. His celebrity status ensures this announcement will attract an enormous amount of media attention. Any company who either directly, or indirectly, appears to endorse him will be drawn into the controversy."

Honey's smile slid off his face. "We understand. Takashi and I are going to go, but if it would be a problem with your family…"

"My father's opinion on this is not an issue." Kyoya cut off his senior sharply. "As a third son, I have the freedom to act without people believing it is on behalf of the Ootori Group. Besides," he pushed his glasses up with one finger, "There are some areas of my life that my father has enough sense not to interfere with."

Yoshio had not gotten to where he was by fighting battles he was bound to lose.

"Hitachiin parties attract as much media as a red-carpet event," Kyoya continued, "In light of the media circus likely to ensue, I suggest the three of us visibly attend together. If the joint owners of the trendiest café in Japan show up as a unit it will send the message that we don't only support him personally but publically as well."

Mori nodded and Honey's smile returned. "You mean support him  _corporately_  don't you, Kyo-chan?"

Kyoya gave a half-shrug of acknowledgement. "Marriage equality is showing increasing favorability among teenagers and young people. It wouldn't hurt our brand to be seen to be on the forefront of the movement."

"And you want to protect Kao-chan." It was not a question.

Kyoya could have disassembled some more, said something about how being 'on the right side of history' was a matter of timing. That the climate seemed right to take a progressive stance. That there was only merit to be gained from it.

But what was the point? These two saw through people like they were made of glass.

"Kaoru is a private person even though his work brings him fame," Kyoya replied, conceding the point, "But if he makes the announcement in the US or did it quietly, it would appear as if he were ashamed. He only wants to get married, not become a poster child."

"You plan to change the story," Mori concluded, "Make it be about 'Honey Bunny's' and our support, not him."

"If we're agreed then?" Kyoya brushed aside Mori's accusation, letting it stand. "I'm sure Hana-chan has a spa day planned for her and Reiko. Shall I pick all of you up at Honey's house at seven-thirty? We can swing by Haruhi's after that and be at the party right when the media presence is thickest."

The two cousins' faces stilled and they exchanged a wordless look that somehow spoke volumes. Kyoya felt a chill curl around the back of his spine. "Is there something wrong with my proposal?"

"Haru-chan will already be there." Honey said so gently Kyoya's heart began beating a furious staccato. "Hika-chan confessed to her. They're... they're dating now."

An abyss opened at his feet, the darkness reaching up shadowy tendrils to pull him in.

A sharp pain lanced up his arm, causing the chasm he teetered on to slam shut. Looking down, he saw Mori's fingers wrapped around his right wrist, squeezing a trigger point that forced Kyoya's hand open. Mori deftly caught the glass of whisky which fell from Kyoya's lifeless hand. "You'll hurt yourself," he intoned.

Flexing his hand, Kyoya realized he had been gripping the glass hard enough it could have shattered.

Honey scrambled over his cousin to sit on the coffee table and face his  _kohai._ "It's not serious yet, Kyo-chan," his words tumbled over each other in an attempt to reassure, "They're starting off as friends. If you like her, you should tell her how you feel."

Kyoya simply blinked at the wide, innocent brown eyes luring him into temptation.

"He can't." Honey's head whipped around to gape at his cousin's pronouncement. Mori's eyes drilled into Kyoya. "Not without going against his family."

"My father has made it clear that there are limits to his indulgence in this matter." Kyoya's voice echoed in his ears, thin and detached, and he allowed himself a bleak smile. "I may slip his leash or push my boundaries from time to time, but in the end I'm an Ootori – I'm simply not the type who can break from my family completely."

Sympathy softened Mori's stoic features. "None of us are."

"You should still tell her, Kyo-chan." Empathetic tears clung to Honey's eyelashes. "You should let her know your feelings properly before…" He trailed off before completing the sentence with 'before it's too late.'

"To what end?" Kyoya spat out bitterly. "As things stand, I can't offer her any future. My father would not even permit me to publicly declare her my girlfriend and I won't treat her like a mistress, hiding her away."

The cousins fell quiet, succumbing to the aura of futility roiling off their friend.

"As things stand." Mori's words shattered the gloomy mood.

Honey snapped to attention. "That's right! You said 'as things stand.' You have a plan, don't you Kyo-chan? Something that will make sure your father accepts a relationship." He leaned forward, quivering with excitement. "You should tell her! If she has feelings for you and knows your plan I'm sure she'd be willing to wait."

"No!" Kyoya almost bolted from his chair with the force of his denial. Forcing himself to calm down, he repeated his objection more softly. "No. I don't have a plan."

Not even Mori could keep the disbelief off his face at that.

"But," Kyoya admitted, "I do know a way that would guarantee my father's approval. However, it's a choice she needs to make because she believes it to be best for everyone involved, not for my benefit. I can't, I won't, ask it of her. Not for my sake."

The three men fell back into silence - there was nothing more to say.

* * *

Kyoya let himself into his apartment, tossed his keys and wallet into a silver bowl sitting on top a table in the entry way and left he lights off. The lights of the city dimly illuminated the room well enough and right now he craved the shadows. Kicking off his shoes, he let them lay scattered on the floor instead of setting them neatly against the step and shed his jacket and tie, flinging them haphazardly across the back of the sofa.

Noel's claws clicked against the flooring as he scrambled down the hallway and scampered to the entry way to twine about Kyoya's legs. Meowing insistently, he butted his head against his servant's calves in a demand to be petted, fed, or both.

Bending down, Kyoya scooped the demanding feline up in one hand, cuddling him against his chest and scratching the little emperor under the chin, and strode across his living room to gaze out the full-length window. The Tokyo skyline lay spread before him but he stared at it unseeingly, the emptiness of his bachelor apartment pressing in on him.

There were more things than business in which timing was everything. Where success was won or lost by finding that one perfect moment of synchronicity. The right people. The right circumstances. The right time. But, for now, all he could do was hope it was Hikaru who was too early and not he who was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone whose left a kudo or comment. If you like, please R&R


	22. Optics

"You're dating Hikaru!?"

Haruhi spun around to face her accuser, eyes wide with horror at the thought someone might have overheard. Grabbing the bottle-blonde by the elbow, she pulled them both even closer to the wall she'd been hugging during her brief break from the never-ending socializing. Her head whipped from side to side, frantically looking around to see if anyone had taken notice. Fortunately, most of the guests at  _this_  party seemed too intent on becoming the center of attention themselves to focus on anyone else.

"Mei, put a lid on it!" Haruhi ordered, "Have you  _seen_  how many reporters are running around in here?"

"Oh my god, it's true!" Mei's eyes widened to the size of an anime character's. "I thought Stefan was punking me!"

Haruhi made 'keep it down' motions with her hands. Nobody appeared to be listening in, for now, but Mei's voice was as loud as the outfit she wore – an iridescent blue and green dress made entirely out of ruffles and feathers which a peacock would consider ostentatious. "Seriously, Mei, Shut. It."

"Fine!" Mei huffed, dramatically rolling her eyes. "Not here. But don't think you're getting out of it that easy." Looping her arm through Haruhi's, she made a beeline for the terrace by way of the bar, where she snagged two glasses and an entire bottle of chardonnay. "I have a feeling I'm going to need this." She turned the bottle in her hand and peer at the label. "Hmmm… _Domaine Leflaive._  I'll say this for the brats, they do know their alcohol."

"Mei…" Haruhi's half-hearted protest fell on deaf ears as the other woman swept her outside to the empty patio. The threat of rain and lack of paparazzi was enough to keep most of the guests at a Hitachiin party inside.

Setting the glasses on a table, Mei poured two glasses, drained one, and then poured another for herself before plopping down in one of the chairs, causing the ruffles around her neckline to bounce and one of the feathers at her hip to flutter to the ground. "Okay, spill it. I want all the details."

Resigning herself to the fact that there was no way out of this, Haruhi slid into the chair opposite and took a sip to steal herself. "There's really not much to tell," she shrugged, "Hikaru confessed and, after considering it carefully, I agreed to give it a try."

"Awww," crooned Mei, "It's almost cute you think _that's_  enough to satisfy me." Shaking her head disapprovingly, she tapped one manicured finger on the side of her glass. "Look, I get why Hikaru asked, I'm actually more surprised that he waited this long, but what I don't get, is why you said yes."

Haruhi pinched the stem of her glass between her fingers, nervously twisting it back and forth.  _This_  was the reason she'd wanted to keep their dating quiet - to avoid that exact question. Avoid conversations where motives that made sense to her emotionally were pulled out for dissection by others. But if she didn't do this now, Mei would  _never_  leave her alone. "Mei, how many guys did you date before Ritsu-kun?"

Mei's brow wrinkled but she seemed willing to play along. "I don't know, four? Five if you count the one I broke up with after two days when I realized he was self-entitled ass."

"And that's… normal, right?" Tossing her head back, Haruhi gulped down half a glass of wine. "That's what most people do – they meet someone, find something about them they like, date them to see if that spark can turn into something more…" She turned her head toward the dark behind the balustrade. "Me… I never did any of that. I'm not sure you can say I ever 'dated' at all. I went from having no awareness of men, to being head-over-heels in love, to living… to living like a widow. Back in Sapporo, I was content with that. I thought that was just how my life had turned out and there was nothing that could be done about it.

"You know that feeling you get when you sit for too long and your foot falls asleep? Since moving back to Tokyo my whole  _being_ has felt that way. All these different pieces of myself I thought were dead are starting to wake up and one thing I've realized is just how much I miss being with someone. Miss sharing all the good and the bad, the highs and the lows, the extraordinary and mundane of life. I don't know… maybe a widow is what I'm destined to be, but the certainty I once had about that is gone.

"Gods, Mei - I'm twenty-four years old but I have less experience with 'normal' dating than an average teenager." Turning back to her companion, Haruhi almost laughed at how Mei's mouth gaped open like a fish and her eyes bulged out of her head. "I just... owe it to myself to find out if there could be something more for me."

Mei took a sip of her wine, set it down, then drained the glass and poured her third before recovering enough to respond. "So, this is… what? An experiment? A way to dip your toe back in the dating scene?"

"No, of course not!" Haruhi shook her head and waved her hand in front of her face emphatically. "That makes it sound like I'm using him. It's just that I'm old enough now to know that some things you can only discover by  _doing_ , not by thinking it through. I promise I'm dealing with him sincerely."

Mei rolled her eyes. "Of course, you are – you're you! I'm not sure you could even  _be_  insincere." She huffed a sigh that fluttered her bangs. "But Hikaru? Really?"

"Why not Hikaru? When I'm with him I have  _fun._ For a while, I can forget about the politics and the back-biting, about whatever threat the Suohs might pose, about all the 'fallen woman' crap people keep trying to shovel on me... for a while I can just be me."

"Haruhi, don't get me wrong, I never considered the way you lived like you'd committed yourself to a convent to be healthy." Mei shook her head disapprovingly. "But trying to find out if you want to date again by dating Hikaru is like trying to see if you can swim by jumping in the ocean. During a typhoon. It's all fun and games until the drowning starts."

"Oh, come on!" Haruhi snorted, "I know you aren't fond of the twins but that's a bit much. Besides, it's not that serious – he's okay with us starting as friends and seeing where it goes."

"Please don't tell me you bought that?" Mei rolled her eyes and sighed. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you're  _Hikaru's_ ocean – 'cause when a guy tells you he's okay 'starting off as friends' it means he's so in love with you he'll take whatever crumbs of affection you're willing to toss his way."

A sudden lack of sound from the ballroom washed over the terrace and both women turned their heads towards the windows. Inside, the guests were beginning to form loose groups all facing a central area. "Shit, that's my cue." Mei drained the rest of her glass. "They're going to make the announcement soon, gotta go take my place." Taking a quick second to make sure her dress was perfectly arranged, she ran off back into the ballroom.

Haruhi sat for a minute, preoccupied with new worries Mei had inadvertently raised. Hikaru was one of her best friends. She liked being around him and she couldn't deny that he was incredibly attractive. But – was she really doing the right thing? Not for her, she was at peace with her decision, but was she doing the right thing for him?

* * *

Haruhi blinked as she emerged from the darkness of the terrace into the brightly lit room. Scanning the room, she found the rest of the host club clustered in a group at the foot of the dais containing the twins, Stefan, and their family members and headed to join them. Half-way there, she found her journey halted by a surprisingly strong grip on her elbow.

"Sorry, Haru-chan." Hana's eyes were a portrait of remorse but her grasp was unrelenting. "Taka-chan and Mitskuni-kun said to keep you here with us."

Reiko materialized out of nothing to stand on Haruhi's other side. "They were very insistent." She nodded solemnly. "The scary one said to tell you that 'Something that appears complicated can be simple and vice versa.'" She shrugged. "Or something like that."

Haruhi's eyes widened, those words catapulted her back in time – all the way to her first year at Ouran.  _Then_  Kyoya had used them to imply that the seemingly complicated issue of who was sending threatening letters to the Host Club had a disappointingly mundane origin. Now? She had a feeling he meant the opposite was true.

Irritated, she made a soft click with her tongue and rolled her eyes. Kyoya and his little games - he just couldn't stop playing them! At every event he'd managed to drag her to he'd point out something odd – a cordial conversation between two known enemies, a CEO's subservient attitude towards a less-powerful man, two people carefully ensuring they were never standing next to each other – and then challenge her to figure out why.

To be fair, a part of her enjoyed it. There was a certain intellectual satisfaction to using her skills at observation, her powers of deductive reasoning, to strip away the layer of what people wanted you to see and dig out the truth buried beneath. Learning how to uncover what people were hiding was a useful skill for a future attorney. But it would be a hell of a lot less annoying if Kyoya treated her as a partner in his game instead of an apprentice, someone to show-off to with his smug statements and maddening hints, the Watson to his Holmes.

Ah, well – if that arrogant, rich bastard wanted to see how much she'd learned, she was up to it. She'd never met a test she couldn't ace.

She turned her head towards the main event which, from what she could tell, was just your typical rich-person engagement announcement. At the far end of the ballroom, a short two-step flight of stairs led up to a large circular dais from which a double stair-case swept up and around on both sides to the mezzanine surrounding the three sides of the room. Hikaru, microphone in hand and conferring with someone who appeared to be the master of ceremonies, occupied center stage. Now that was unusual, a brother making the announcement instead of the parents, but given the almost incestuous, symbiotic relationship the twins shared it could be easily explained.

The amassed families of both grooms stood with them toward the black of the platform, Hitachiins on the right, Tomainos opposite them. Kaoru's grandmother, Kazuha – recently declared a living national treasure for her contributions to the art of  _ikebana –_ had motorcycled in for the occasion _._ The three generations of Hitachiin women were all beaming with delight and Kaoru's father's genial smile was slightly wider than normal. All-in-all a typical family excited to announce the engagement of their son.

On the other side of the stage, the Tomainos appeared equally ecstatic. Given the distance between Milan and Tokyo, not all of Stefan's family had been able to attend but those present matched the Hitachiins in both number and prominence. His mother, lead designer for the house founded by her grandfather, and father, an award-winning photographer, were grinning as broadly as their counterparts. The eldest two of his younger siblings, one a model-turned-actress and the other a fashion blogger, were vibrating with excitement - practically bouncing on their stilettos. Standing next to the prospective groom was his uncle and mentor, a dignified man who looked like an older version of Stefan, clutched one of his nephew's shoulders and appeared ready to dissolve into exuberantly emotional tears of joy at any moment.

As for the groom, both Kaoru and Stefan wore matched expressions that were an equal mix of excited happiness and awkward embarrassment at being the center of attention.

Nothing in any of that was an aberration from any other engagement announcement – excited partners with their happy, supportive families. Although, if she were honest, there was something… different in the air about them. The way they stood, the way they gazed out at the audience, felt less like a show of support than a show of force. A subtle attitude that dared anyone to forget just how much power and influence they held.

Dropping her eyes from the stage, she observed the crowd she had been prevented from joining. Again, little seemed unusual to her eyes on the surface – except for the extraordinary number of press everywhere. Certain favored photographers and cameramen clustered in an area directly in front of Hikaru. Looking up and around the room, Haruhi saw still more were up in the mezzanine where they had an eagle-eye view of all the proceedings. They really  _were_  crawling all over the place. Like ants at a picnic. Although, the way their eyes gleamed, they put her more in mind of a school of piranhas about to go into a feeding frenzy.

She shuddered as it hit her just how true Hikaru's statement that the Hitachiins were celebrities was. She doubted Honey or Mori, despite their families' wealth, had their engagement announcements covered with as much… fervor. Even the third Ootori son might not merit this much attention from anyone but the economic journals

Her thoughts turned dark at the thought of when Kyoya inevitably acceded to his family's demands to take a worthy bride. Each of their three friends who'd found a person to spend their life with had made their choice out of love and she knew that, regardless of the outcome of their 'dating,' both she and Hikaru would follow their hearts in the end. Even the few of her Ouran classmates who had wed had done so out of genuine affection and caring no matter whether their engagements were arranged or not. But Kyoya…

He might have convinced his father to let him pick his own bride, but that didn't mean he'd be guided in his selection by anything other than what would benefit his family and help him realize his own ambitions. She'd known that was the way it would be for him since High School, but that fact had never ceased to sadden her on some level. Just like it had always troubled Tamaki. In spite of his darker edges, he was a good man and deserved someone who loved him and who he could love in return. Someone who could sooth the restlessness that underlay everything he did, the relentless energy that drove him so strongly to succeed. She could only hope that when the time came his friends' happiness would convince him to reach for his own.

Shaking away thoughts of her friend's circumstance which she could do nothing to change, Haruhi's eyes sought out the subject of them. Those attendees closest to the family and the most prominent were generally given a place of honor up next to the stage. The crowd of dignitaries stretched out on both sides from the journalists in the center and wrapped around all the way to the double staircase. Kyoya, Mori, and Honey had ended up on the Hitachiin side, standing just behind the family. Although they were dressed in impeccably tailored suits, they stood out like sparrows in a flock of parrots. Mei's peacock dress was practically tame in comparison to the elaborate raiment worn by the rest of the crowd of artists, designers, and entertainers. There were more feathers, sparkles, and cleavage on display in this room than at her father's  _okama_  bar.

Scanning those assembled, Haruhi was surprised at just how many she knew or recognized. Despite all the events she'd been attending lately, she hadn't expected that - the circles the Ootoris and the Hitachiins moved in were very different. But, Tokyo high-society was still small and insular enough that those circles overlapped - a Venn-diagram intersection of business, entertainment, and Ouran alumni. Her ex-class president Soga, son of a famous politician, was there, as was a Kuze who's muscle was in the process of turning to fat. Over by Mei she spotted Benibara, now a leading stage actress, and it would not have surprised her if the rest of the Zuka club was floating around somewhere in the room. Opposite the Host Club trio, an entertainment lawyer she'd met at a fundraiser for ALS was talking to the CEO of Mr. Hitachiin's company and a dignified actress who'd starred in one of Maria's favorite dramas.

"Oh!" Smiling as the puzzle pieces slotted back into place, she turned to her companions. "This is about optics, isn't it? Everyone around the stage is prominent in either business or entertainment and, from the way the cameras are positioned, any wide shots they take will include at least some of them. That all these influential people are supporting Kaoru and Stefan's marriage will be almost as big a story as the announcement, won't it?"

Hana squealed and clapped her hands. "Very good, Haruhi-chan!" She smiled smugly at Reiko. "See, I told you she'd figure it out. She's very smart."

"She wouldn't have without the dark one's hint." Reiko replied in a serene tone that was so calm it bordered on creepy. "That gave an unfair advantage."

"Oh, pooh!" Hana waved away the objection. "You're just pouting because now I get to pick the theme for the Halloween party - and it  _won't_ be 'Lovecraft' like you wanted. I know!" Her eyes somehow managed to light up even more, so bright now they rivaled a sun going nova. "Baby animals! Won't that be just  _kawaii?_  You and I will be kittens, of course." Clasping her hands together she brought them to her breast and sighed. "And won't Taka-chan and Mitskuni-kun look adorable dressed as puppies?"

As Reiko blushed at the thought of a puppy-Honey, Haruhi tuned out their argument and let her gaze fall on the man she was certain had been instrumental in turning a simple engagement into a political event. One that was sure to have people talking less about the grooms and more about the attendees.

Kyoya really was such a nice guy. Someday she would force him to admit it.

* * *

"I should have known I'd find you at the buffet."

Haruhi jumped at the wry words and narrowly avoided dropping her fully loaded plate. Turning around, she popped a crab-and-shrimp stuffed mushroom into her mouth and faced the gray-eyed, bespectacled snarker. "Well, someone has to eat all this food. I never understood why people at these parties treat the buffet table as if it was some kind of untouchable piece of art."

"Perhaps because it is? The entire purpose of a buffet at an event like this is to show off how much you spent, not to feed anyone. Besides, this is an  _entertainment_  party." Disdain dripped like icicles off the second-to-last word as Kyoya swept his arm to indicate the room. "Do you really think anyone here actually eats anything?"

Haruhi snorted. "True. I don't think I've had so many conversations about fad-diets in my life." Fingers hovering over her plate, she finally selected the sashimi-grade salmon and cheese wrapped with a slice of nori-thin cucumber. She  _should_  go take a seat at one of the tables before eating but everything looked delicious. Anyway, if she had to be rude and eat without sitting down first it was Kyoya's own fault for waylaying her. "Fortunately, I don't have a job where I need to worry about my figure," she remarked idly and took a bite. She bit back a groan. So. Damn. Good.

"Haruhi," Kyoya chuckled, his warm gaze gliding over her, "Most of the women here would envy a figure that can fit into an off-the-runway Hitachiin dress. Especially when you look so beautiful in it."

She looked from the simple emerald-green-on-emerald-green embroidered 'pouf' dress Kaoru'd insisted she wear to the elaborate raiment worn by the rest of room's denizens – each more elaborate than the other. "Thank you, but to be honest, I feel rather under-dressed for the occasion."

"Nonsense." The right side of his mouth quirked up. "A diamond shines best in a simple setting."

She burst into laughter so hard she almost dropped her plate. "I think you've been in 'host mode' too long tonight. You've forgotten how to turn it off."

His smile broadened into something more genuine. "You're probably right. It has been a very…  _trying_  evening."

Haruhi sobered abruptly. "I know Kaoru appreciates everything you've been doing tonight – oh don't even pretend you don't know what I mean!" she ordered when it looked like he was about to dissemble, "He's always been protective of his personal life. It was very kind of you to try and find a way to spare him from some of the worst of the attention this will bring him."

Kyoya averted his eyes and she could almost swear she'd embarrassed him. She'd feel sorry about it, except the fact that she'd flustered the unflappable Shadow King felt like a long overdue victory. "Fine, I won't deny my part in it," he said after a long pause. "But I was not the mastermind – Yuzuha-san has been at this game much longer than me and she is a expert at managing public perceptions."

"Huh." Haruhi had always perceived the twins mother as a beautiful butterfly flitting around from place to place, yet a part of her was unsurprised to find that butterfly had an exoskeleton made of steel. "I suppose you don't become Japan's most famous designer without being pretty formidable."

The weight of her plate caught her focus and her eyes darted over the bounty arrayed on it. She couldn't decide whether to try the seared scallop of the shrimp and tomato bruschetta the caterer had made to honor Stefan's heritage. Either way, she really should sit down or at least move away from the buffet first. "If you're getting tired, you should take a break." She lifted her plate in an invitation. "Do you want to join me?"

"I wish I could." He pushed his glasses up with his finger in a way that looked more weary than imperious. "Unfortunately, there are still a few more people I need to talk to before the evening ends. Just to make sure the narrative we want people pushing tomorrow 'takes.'"

"Your loss," she teased while contemplating her meal, "I, however, am going to enjoy myself – unlike you rich bastards, we commoners are taught not to waste food." The scallop. She was definitely going to eat the scallop first.

"I doubt it will go to waste," he teased back, "Given your love of fancy food, I'm sure your boyfriend is already planning to pack up the leftovers and send them home with you."

Haruhi stilled. Of course, he knew – he was Kyoya. And if Mei knew, there was no way the Shadow King wouldn't. Slowly she lifted her head to meet his gaze, searching it for signs of judgement. "Are you disappointed in me?"

Kyoya felt as if he'd been slapped. Disappointed? True, her dating someone else, anyone else, ripped at his soul like a scourge of thorns but how would that make him disappointed in  _her_? In himself, sure, but not Haruhi. Never Haruhi. "Why on earth would I be disappointed in you?" he asked when he'd recovered the ability to speak.

"Well, because…" She flailed her free hand around as if that could magically summon words that were just out of reach of her tongue. "Because…"

The words she couldn't speak formed in his mind and his heart broke a little more. Disappointed because Tamaki had been his best friend. Because he'd know how much the lonely prince had loved her. How much she'd loved him. How utterly perfect they'd been together. How looking at them could make the most cold-hearted man dream of love. Make  _him_  dream of love.

Gods, how could she think that he could hate her for not tying herself to a grave.

"Haruhi," he said softly, gently, "If back then, back during High School, you had chosen Hikaru, or someone else, or even no one at all, Tamaki would not have begrudged you even the smallest iota of whatever happiness you found. That kind of selfishness simply isn't in his nature. How could I resent you for moving on with your life when he wouldn't?"

In one sigh, Haruhi released the breath she'd been holding. "Thank you for that. I keep telling myself the same thing but there's always this piece of me that feels guilty. Like I'm betraying his memory."

"You aren't." He put every ounce of conviction he had into those words.  _She_  was not the one betraying anyone. Tamaki's judgement would never fall on  _her._  He gave a small sigh of his own. "Although, in a way, I understand how you feel."

Haruhi heard the pain lacing his words. For whatever reason, he also struggled with guilt. Knew the secret pains born from such a great loss that those who didn't struggle with it could never understand. As she opened her mouth to see if he would be willing to share that burden with her as she had with him, he visibly shook it off and smiled at her so broadly she shivered. "I just wished you hadn't decided to move on with Hikaru. I consider him a friend - it will be... bothersome should I have to arrange for his death if he hurts you in any way."

Haruhi's laugh died in her throat as she took in his unholy, goblin grin. The way the light glinted off his glasses, hiding his eyes. Somehow, she didn't think he was joking.

Not one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Profuse apologies for how long it has been since I last updated – my life got very busy and writing dropped to the wayside. Things are less hectic now and I've recovered my motivation, so I hope to return to my usual cadence. Thank you to all who have kudo'd, reviewed, or otherwise shown your support for this story while I've been neglecting it – I promise to do better by you!


	23. Enough

"Mama, Hika-ji's here."

Haruhi paused, make-up brush poised over one cheek, and rolled her eyes at the shout wafting up the stairway, through the open door of her bedroom, and into the master bath. Through dint of sheer repetition, she and Shima had finally managed to drill into Daiki's head the necessity of announcing visitors. The need to not yell the announcement at the top of his lungs, however, still remained beyond his grasp.

She didn't reply, as that would involve her shouting back and sending the wrong parental message – 'do as I say, not as I do.' Besides, Daiki had no doubt already dragged the elder Hitachiin brother into the den to play video games. She caught a glimpse of her own smile in the mirror at that thought. Hikaru was turning out to be surprisingly good with children – perhaps because he was still one at heart.

It was strange, all the ways in which time changed a person yet also didn't. Time and experience could refine someone's nature, but apparently not alter it. Maybe nothing could. The Hikaru of  _now_ was different, but also the same – the promise of the boy fulfilled in the man. And she rather liked who he'd become

In the time they'd spent together, she'd discovered so much about the grown-up Hikaru to admire. Oh, he was still every bit as mischievous, brash, and hot-headed as he'd been at sixteen, but he'd overlaid all that with a maturity that channeled it in more positive ways. Mischievousness manifested as playfulness, in an ability to make even the most mundane thing seem fun and exciting. Brashness morphed into the risk-taking needed to succeed in a highly competitive industry. And as for his temper? He still let it out, but only to protect those he cared about – like how the day after Kaoru's engagement Hikaru had made several, blisteringly acerbic comments to the paparazzi following him about. In the ensuing furor over that, the happy couple had been able to slip away to Italy without pursuit. No matter what ended up happening in their relationship, she knew she'd never regret taking the time to get to know  _this_ Hikaru properly.

And yet, underneath it all she felt a vague disquiet. An uneasiness. A sense that she was looking at a picture just out of focus. It was nothing she could put her finger on or form into words. Half the time she was sure she was imagining it. Returning to her ablutions with a firm mental shake, she put all of that out of her mind. It was likely nothing more than the 'weirdness' to be expected when the unwritten rules of the relationship between two people started to change.

She finished dabbing on her blush, completing her makeup routine, and did a quick once over in the mirror. When had she gotten so good at this? She still didn't like it very much, but she'd come to see the need for it. Like clothes and a good haircut, makeup was just another component of the image she wanted to project. The one the proclaimed that, commoner or not, she was someone to take seriously.

And, besides, Hikaru seemed to like it. She could compromise.

Setting the brush down, she walked into the bedroom to put on her outfit for the evening – a simple light gray, nubbed-cotton sweater over turquoise blue leggings. At least in this she could keep it simple, they were just going out for dinner and a movie.

 _That_  had been another surprise. At first, she'd been apprehensive, constantly expecting Hikaru to do something outlandish like whisk her off to Paris for dinner, but their dates had been… sedate. Practically normal. Dinner, the planetarium, a quick coffee between school and work, trips to the zoo and park with the kids on weekends… the most extravagant thing he'd done was take her to a musical. Even then it had been  _The Lion King_  and they'd been accompanied by two ecstatic pre-schoolers.

It wasn't at all what she'd expected.

Truth was, her life hadn't changed very much since they'd started dating five weeks ago. (Or was it six? Hikaru, she was sure, would know down to the minute – another surprise, below his jaded surface he could be every bit a romantic idiot as Tamaki.) For the most part, things had continued as normal - school, internship, Sunday lunch with the Suohs, dinners with Honey and Mori, occasional all-host-club activities, social events, et al. The only  _real_  change had been Hikaru, instead of Kyoya, accompanying her to the various fundraisers and functions she was now expected to attend.

Walking back into the bathroom for a final check, she wrinkled her brow and frowned. Now that she thought of it, Kyoya had been somewhat… remote lately. He hadn't broken contact with her or anything, but she certainly didn't see him as much. Of course they crossed paths at events, and at her monthly visit to the cemetery, and they'd met up for coffee once or twice after class. Added together, though, there was a definite absence of a certain bespectacled, Machiavellian, rich bastard in her routine.

And she sort of missed him.

Throwing off her downturn in mood, she picked up her brush and tugged it violently through her hair. No doubt it was some stupid, misguided notion of propriety. An attempt to be 'respectful' of her relationship with Hikaru. What a load of crap – like she'd let  _any_  relationship come between her and her friends. She'd just have to talk to him and make him get his head on straight later.

A final tug through her hair and she was ready. Off to go have a nice, simple,  _normal_ , date.

* * *

Haruhi raised one eyebrow and narrowed her eyes at the smugly beaming redhead next to her. "This doesn't look much like a restaurant. Or a movie theater," she snarked.

"I know, isn't it great!" Hikaru bounded from the dock on to the gang plank. Turning to face her, he flung his arm out, showing off the boat behind him. Although, could something that big  _really_  be called a boat? It probably fell in the category of 'ship.' It was as long as six cars – the big, ostentatious kind Kyoya was chauffeured around in – at least three stories tall, and, oh gods, was that a  _helicopter pad_  up top! The entire thing gleamed white in the sun, except for the bits of polished wood which glowed like something exotic, expensive, and endangered.

"My dad's company keeps this on hand to entertain foreign VIPs like yours-truly – that top section has a fully stocked bar and kitchen, a living room with a big screen TV and surround sound, and below deck is a state room with a king-size…" His face got a panicked look on it. "And, anyway, since it's our six-week anniversary and it isn't raining for once, I thought it would be fun!"

He reached his hand out towards her, palm up in invitation. Haruhi's momentary ire dissipated at the child-like excitement lighting up his eyes and she placed her hand in his. What the hell, it might not be simple, but if this was the most over-the-top date he planned, then she could live with it.

* * *

Hikaru gestured at Haruhi to sit back down and went to work clearing away the dishes. Dinner had been excellent – he'd taken the risk on Italian, even though Haruhi preferred Japanese, but she seemed to enjoy it. Being able to easily reheat and replate the meal by himself was the critical factor. Too much staff underfoot would distract her so it was just him and the Captain. After all,  _someone_  needed to drive this thing. He was  _not_  looking to reenact the plot to Gilligan's Island here.

Mmm... him, Haruhi, a deserted island... His brain squealed at the force of the mental brakes he put on that thought.

As he piled the dishes in the sink, he watched her from under his lashes. Legs crossed, sandal half-dangling from her foot and drawing attention to soft-pink painted toenails, staring out the window and sipping her wine – gods she was gorgeous. A thought crossed over her face, causing a bemused smile to play on her lips and Hikaru heart-rate tripled. Fuck. His hands were shaking! Actually shaking! Like he was some sixteen-year-old virgin!

He gripped the counter and forced himself to take deep, even breaths. It was OK to be nervous, this was Haruhi after all – the girl he'd been dreaming about for… well since the first time he'd even entertained the notion of having a relationship outside of that weird, semi-incestuous, bubble he and Kaoru had grown up in. But he didn't need to freak out about it.

Everything was going to plan.

He'd done his best to make sure he fit into her life – worked their time together around her schedule, made sure there were plenty of dates that could include the kids (which wasn't hard because Daiki was a pretty cool little dude and Ageha adored him – which still sorta pissed him off), and deliberately made sure everything was kept low-key.

He hadn't been able to resist 10th row center seats to  _The Lion King,_  though. C'mon – it's  _The Lion King!_  All that energy and motion, the amazing set tech and costuming, and the look on the kids' faces was just indescribable. He'd already warned Kaoru that this year's Christmas present/wardrobe would have to feature lots of dashiki prints. Thank god 'Circle of Life' was easier on the ears than the umpteenth rendition of  _'Ari No Mama De.'_

Briefly, he wondered if he could ever convince Haruhi to go on safari. His lips turned up in a wide grin at the idea – maybe in a few years. He'd have to pitch it carefully, he could find a way to make her think it was a mandatory business trip or guilt her into an anniversary trip. Who knew? Haruhi could surprise him, maybe she'd jump at the chance. She always did like the natural over the artificial. The beach over the water park. Just think of it… Africa! The excitement of discovery, the feeling of vast, unexplored land, the hint of danger - So. Much. Fun!

But, that, if it ever happened, was future. He needed to focus on the now. With a shake of his head, he set himself back to his task.

Anyway, so far he'd done everything right. At least, he thought so. She'd put up with him for six weeks, so there was that. It had been fun, too. He'd never really done the whole 'dating' thing. Sure, there had been women – some he'd even had what you could charitably call a 'relationship' with – but he hadn't dated them. Not in the same way. Not where he'd let his guard down so they could see the real him, not where he'd worked so hard to figure out what made them happy, not where he actually  _cared_  that things continue.

And tonight, he was going to see if they could not just continue, but progress. In gamer speak - he was going to try to level up.

After a quick wipe down of the counter so everything would look neat, nothing ruined the mood like clutter and dirt distracting a woman, he rejoined Haruhi at the table. "The sun's setting, let's head up on deck for a bit," he said, offering her his arm. With a slightly skeptical look, as is she suspected he was up to something, she stood and linked her arm through his.

The top story of the yacht was one flat surface and he lead her out through the open living area at the aft and guided her around the main cabin, past the hot tub, to the flat wood-paneled fore-deck near the bow. The boat was moving slowly, practically drifting, parallel to the coastline, allowing for a picture-postcard view of the Rainbow Bridge, the Tokyo Tower, and the lights of Shinjuku.

He smiled in triumph as her feet moved towards the railing of their own volition, enraptured by the beauty of the pink light gleaming off the buildings. Standing behind her, one arm gripping the railing and the other loosely wrapped around her waist, he snuggled his chin against her shoulder and watched the sun set over Tokyo Bay. It was a beautiful night, he couldn't have asked for better – warm with just the light breeze from the moving boat brushing against their skin, golden glow from the fading sun back-lighting the cranes and skyscrapers before them, and, most importantly, no damn rain.

As the sun fell and the sky turned from gray to black, he looked up at the bridge and signaled their unseen pilot. At once, soft music poured out from the on deck speakers. Gripping one of Haruhi's hands in his, he stepped back, tugging her into a spin that landed her against his chest. Looking down at her startled face, he grinned. "Wanna dance?"

She choked on a laugh, "Idiot."

"Aww, c'mon, don't tell me you forgot? And we spent all that time teaching you." Picking up the rhythm of the music, he began moving them around in a waltz. "And… one, two three. One, two, three."

She laughed, trying to follow along and stepping right on his instep in the process. "Yeah, but you only taught me the  _guy's_  part."

He waggled his eyebrows at her deviously. "Well, in that case, just relax and let me lead."

Stars twinkling overhead, the sound of water lapping at the hull, and the most beautiful girl in the world in his arms. It was everything he'd ever dreamed.

* * *

Haruhi stumbled through the waltz as best she could. It would take a crowbar to get the truth out of her, but she was enjoying herself. For a few minutes the music, the dance, even the god damn  _ship_ , made her feel like the girl she'd once been. As the song ended and a new one started up. Hikaru's feet slowed, he was probably getting tired of being stepped on. Keeping his hand on her waist, he dropped their joined hands to their sides and ghosted his hand lightly up her arm, over her shoulder, and around to the base of her neck. His eyes glowed, whisky-bright, focused intently on her lips.

No, not getting tired - he was going to kiss her.

She was going to let him.

His head dipped towards hers slowly, as if prepared at any moment for her to stop him.

She didn't.

The gap between them narrowed millimeter by millimeter until, at last, his lips brushed over hers. Tentative. Hesitant. Growing bolder as it dawned on him that she wasn't going to reject it. Started exploring. Tasting. Teasing.

Haruhi sighed and relaxed into the kiss. Oh gods, she had missed this. Missed arms around her waist holding her tight. Missed the quick staccato of her pulse leaping. Missed the slow coil of heat nestling in her belly and the little shivers of electricity racing along her skin. Missed being wanted. Missed wanting.

She moaned in the back of her throat as he took it deeper.  _Kami,_  he was good at this! No awkward nose bumping, no overeager lip mashing – it was 100% pure, masculine, confidence and it made her long-neglected hormones sit up and beg like a puppy for a treat. Her libido gave a jaunty little wave at her brain, pointing out that right below their feet was a state room with a nice, big, soft bed. And, really, what would be the harm? They were both adults. And they cared for each other. And it had been so. Damn. Long.

And yet…

Hikaru broke the kiss. Breath shaking, he touched his forehead to hers and exhaled, "Damn."

She choked out a strangled plea, "Hikaru, I…"

"No!" He commanded. Releasing her, he stepped back and looked away. "You don't have to say anything," he said softly, "Give me some credit." He turned then, meeting her eyes. The look of raw pain in his had her flinching. "I can tell the difference between when a woman is enjoying being kissed and when she's enjoying being kissed by  _me._ "

Haruhi hung her head, unable to deny it. It just wasn't fair! Hikaru was fun to be with, good with Daiki, sexy as hell - but it seemed none of that was meant for  _her._  The years had changed both of them, only not in the one way that would matter. Whatever bit of magic, whatever mysterious spark that needed to exist to turn friends into lovers still wasn't there. And never would be.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. They were poor words to express the regret she felt.

"Don't be. Some things just can't be helped." HIkaru's indifferent shrug was belied by the bitter tone in his voice." Moving to the railing, he leaned on it, staring out at the city lights. "It could have been great, you know. We would have had a good life together –" Palms outstretched to the skyline, he drew his hands through the air like a showman revealing a marquee. "-I had it all planned out.

"I would have relocated my company headquarters to Tokyo – half my staff are Japanophiles who'd jump at the chance to move here. Lawyers can't control their own hours, but I'm the boss so I'd be able to pick up the slack, work at home occasionally to look after the kids." His lips turned upwards as he spun out the daydream. "We'd have two more, you know, twins. Pretty little girls with brown hair and Tanuki eyes. We'd make sure at least one of us was always there for piano recitals and soccer games and such."

Haruhi's heart panged as she heard the echo of his lonely childhood reflected in his words. Lost in his fantasy, Hikaru barreled on without waiting for comment. "Every Sunday would be 'family day' and we'd load everyone up into the minivan." He gave a derisive snort. "Cause, you know, with three kids we'd need to get a lame car like that – and we'd head out to the park, or the zoo, or maybe even go hiking." Grasping the rail in both hands, he smiled sadly. "See, it would have been great."

For a second, she was tempted. There were far worse things to build a marriage on than friendship. But she had known, once, what it was to love. What it was to be loved. She might be willing to settle for companionship, but Hikaru deserved so much better. He deserved someone who would love him every bit as much as she had loved Tamaki.

"You're right, it does sound nice." Stepping up to stand beside him, she laid her head against his left arm consolingly. "It sounds like the life I've always wanted."

Suddenly, like a puzzle piece sliding into place, the vague anxiety she'd been feeling since the start resolved itself with a click. "But, Hikaru, can you honestly say that's what you want?" He flinched, startled, and she lifted her head to give him her full attention. "Minivans on a Sunday afternoon? That's  _my_  life.  _My_  dream. You? You're a… you're a red Ferrari racing down the street at midnight. You need, you want, a life full of excitement, of fun, of adventure. You aren't the type to settle for the mundane, you're the type to live life to the fullest. I don't think the life you described could keep you happy for long."

"Maybe." Hikaru reached his right hand across to cover hers. "But I could be a minivan. For you." His tone was pleading, even as his eyes started to acknowledge the truth of her words. "I'd try."

"I know." She turned her hand up and squeezed his. "But… you shouldn't have to. That's not how this sort of thing is supposed to work. You'd always be cutting off pieces of yourself to fit in the box of what makes  _me_  happy and, sooner or later, you'd hate me for it and I'd hate myself even more. You need, no... you  _deserve_ someone who can embrace all the pieces of you because those will be a part of them too."

Hikaru stared at their conjoined hands, unable to reply. Her words rang to true to be refuted – minivans and soccer games? That was something he had resolved himself to bear if she were at his side. Something he could put up with because the alternative, not having her in his life, would be a far worse torture. One he didn't want to, one he couldn't, go through again.

Six years ago, when she'd abandoned them, abandoned him, it had been hell. He'd done anything, everything, he could think of to numb the pain. To take the edge off the hurt if only for a second. But, inevitably, whatever fog he'd fallen into would clear and he'd come face-to-face with the yawning, gaping void that was her and  _tono's_  absence. Not even Kaoru knew the worst of what he'd done, realized just how close to stepping off into the abyss he'd come.

And then, one day, everything changed.

He'd been in Hokkaido. In Sapporo, in fact. One of his many 'acquaintances' from that time in his life had invited the twins up to her ski cabin for the weekend. Kaoru had stayed behind, wisely choosing work on a project over sitting around disapproving of his brother's life choices. The party had stopped for an overnight stay in the prefecture capitol before continuing on up to the mountains and, unable to sit around doing nothing, sit around being sober, Hikaru had gone out clubbing.

Stumbling out from the bar at the point where too late became too early, he was brought up short by a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He'd only seen enough to know the figure he'd spotted had been petite, brunette, and wearing the fugliest parka he'd ever seen. His mind mocked him – it couldn't be her. The odds were… well, too big for  _him_  to calculate. Not while he was this high. Besides, the woman had waddled like a penguin not moved like a gazelle. It couldn't, it wouldn't, be Haruhi.

His body had chased after her anyway.

As the woman turned a corner, he'd slammed into another crowd of late night celebrators and got thrown off his course by a fist to the face. When the fight had cleared, she'd been gone.

Leaning, panting, against a building he caught a glimpse of himself in the window – hair and clothes disheveled, one eye starting to swell and the other so bloodshot it matched his hair. He looked like a... like a loser rich kid living off his daddy's money and wasting his life. For the first time in six months a wave of disgust roiled over him. If that had been Haruhi, if he had actually found her, what would she have thought to see him like this?

The next day, he cut his trip short and showed up unannounced on Mori's doorstep. His  _sempai_  had taken one look at him, grunted, "This way," and lead him straight to the meditation room. He'd also provided a change of clothes and pointed out the location of the very much needed bath. By the time Hikaru had left, he'd come to one conclusion – Haruhi was out there, somewhere, and someday she'd come back.

When she did, she was damn well going to find a Hikaru who was worthy of her.

For six years he'd lived his life with that as his goal, his driving force. And, maybe, that had been the problem. He'd wanted her for so long, he'd never stopped to think what that would mean. To figure out if it could work between them. To let himself think, for one minute that he was mixing the reality of friendship with the dream of something more. Perhaps, in the end, the 'Haruhi' he'd been chasing for so long was just an illusion. Just the necessary dream he'd needed to get him through a mountain of grief. A dream he should, and finally could, let go of.

She was probably right, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Unable to stand that concerned, sincere look of hers any longer, he averted his eyes. "I suppose you're right." Shaking his head, he laughed ruefully. "God, I can't believe I'm getting the 'It's Not You, It's Me' speech. If it got out I'd been rejected by the same girl  _twice,_ my rep would never be the same."

"I'm sorry." She cringed as she apologized. He didn't get the sense this was any easier for her, which mollified him a lot more than he would have thought.

"Well, you should be," he forced the teasing tone, releasing her hand. "I'm a prime catch." Pushing away from the railing, he stood straight and ran his hands through his hair, lacing them at the back of his head. He breathed in, held it, and felt something deep within him release and flow out on the exhale. "It's weird but, it feels better this time. More… closure, I guess. I suppose I always wondered what would have happened if I'd confessed before you'd fallen in love with  _tono._ Always wondered what would have happened had you taken the time to properly consider me." He shrugged. "Now I do."

"I'm sorry," she apologized. Again. It was getting on his nerves a bit. "I hope we can still be…"

Oh, now that was just  _too_  much! He pierced her with a glare. "Haruhi, gods help me if you say  _one word_  about still being friends, I will push you down and demonstrate just how much of a 'friend' I don't want to be."

She snorted, clearly not threatened. She knew him too well to believe he'd hurt her.

He laughed, for real this time. She was still amazing. Still the only person who was able to see the real him and not the image he projected. Still a piece of him he could never let go of. The wild wave of pain he'd felt began to subside as a new certainty washed over him. "Besides, we aren't friends." Her humor vanished instantly, eyes widening in shock. Unable to resist, he reached out and tweaked her nose. "You aren't getting rid of me that easy. We're family – you're going to have to put up with me until we're in a nursing home and I'm having to beat off all those lecherous old guys surrounding you with my cane."

Her eyes twinkled, worry clearing off her face as he began setting their relationship back firmly into safer territory. "More likely I'll be having to keep you from being sued for sexual harassment by the nursing staff."

"Never said it couldn't be both," he replied. He looped his arm across her shoulders. "Gah, it's getting cold up here, let's head down and watch that movie I promised you."

Haruhi hesitated, carefully assessing him to see if he really was okay. He composed his features into his best 'what-me-worry?' look and it must have satisfied her because she let him pull her back inside.

Right now, he would watch a movie with his best friend. Later tonight, he would make Mori and Honey take him out drinking and mourn the loss of his love. Then, tomorrow, he would fly back home. Put some distance between them so he could heal.

Family. It wasn't what he wanted, but he could live with it - it was better than the alternative. This time, he wasn't going to lose her. Not completely. He could already feel the raw edges of the hole in his heart starting to knit back together after far, far too long. The hurt wasn't gone, wouldn't be for a while, but it was dulling.

And, for now, that would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might have broken my own heart a little with this chapter. I just want to say a huge thank you to the Hikaru supporters out there who challenged me to make sure I could find a way to make a HikaHaru storyline that made me root for them. I hope I managed to do that for you, even if I had to go and do something evil like this. In the end, I wanted a bittersweet resolution to their romance, but not an end to their relationship.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who kudo'd and especially to those who left a review. The closer I get to the end of a story, the harder it is to bring myself to write it and those things keep me motivated. And we are nearing the end, I'm calculating about 4-5 more chapters plus an omake and epilogue or two to wrap it all up. So, hopefully, I can get it done before the end of next year :)


	24. Omake: A Whole Lotta Trouble

Hikaru swirled his glass and took a sip of hair-of-the-dog before gazing back out the window at the tarmac. A commercial flight. Shit. It wasn't even one of the nice new ones with suites or individual, private seats. Nope, he had to get a flight where the only seats left were doubles. That's the problem with insisting on taking the first flight available out of town – you can't always get what you want.

He should just tattoo that on his forehead and be done with it.

If he'd been willing to wait a week, his parents would be back with the private jet, but that wasn't an option. He couldn't stay in this town any longer. Nine million people and there were still too few to put enough distance between him and the only one that mattered.

He probably could have borrowed the Ootoris', but asking that bastard for anything right now stuck in his craw. Oh, that bespectacled ass had been all polite and respectful while Haruhi had been his girlfriend, but Hikaru just knew that, now it was over, the smarmy twit would be oozing back into her life like an invasive slime.

He took another sip. At least he was in first class, where there was alcohol and pretty stewardesses to take the edge off.

To be fair, he wasn't that hungover. Mori and Honey were smart choices as drinking companions for a guy bent on self-destruction. They knew just where the line between 'drunk enough to forget' became 'drunk enough to do something stupid.' Like call and beg her to give it another chance. Or burn something down.

And when that sweet-looking demon-cherub gazed up into your face, batted his big brown eyes, and said to the bartender, "Oh, I think Hika-chan wants a water. Don't you Hika-chan?" You knew damn well you'd been cut off.

Finishing his drink, he ordered another for after takeoff, which shouldn't be long now. The commoners in coach had finished loading, but there was some delay at the gate. He hoped the plane wasn't being held for his missing seatmate, he had started looking forward to the solitude. It was going to be a long fucking trip – ten hours to LA, four-hour layover, then another few hours to get back to NY.

A brief commotion at the door grabbed his attention and he looked up. A large, ratty canvas backpack was making its way down the aisle, blocking his view of anything else. Just his luck, it stopped right before his row and then swung up into the bin above his head. Oh gods, they were probably a frequent flyer upgrade – no one with a right to first class would own a bag like that.

He turned back to his view while the unwanted companion was messing with their bag. Once they got in the air, he'd raise the privacy screen. In the meantime, no point in inviting unwanted socializing.

"Suntory, please. Neat." The contralto, as rich and smooth as the whiskey it had ordered, had him whipping his head around and reassessing the merits of isolation. "After takeoff's fine," the unseen new arrival assured the flight attendant.

Ok, he was a dog. He'd be the first to admit it – but  _this time_  he couldn't be blamed for the fact that the first thing he noticed about her was a tiny black crop top, full perky breasts, and killer abs the exact color of a creamy latte. The way she was stretched up and over her seat to wrestle a cell phone and pair of  _Beats_  headphones out of her bag made them impossible to miss. It was like she  _wanted_  him to check her out. And, really, when God made something that spectacular, it had to be a sin or something  _not_  to admire it.

He barely glanced at the hip-length canvas jacket that certified her right to be in first class – it might look like the unholy offspring of a Hobby Lobby and an army surplus store, but it was straight off Kao's spring runway and retailed at 15,000 yen. That is, if you could even find it – it had sold out of the stores before it was even in them. Anyway, he'd seen it before and her legs, encased in ripped, gray jeggings so tight he could see the outline of her muscles through them, were far more attractive. A pair of scuffed, buckled, black ankle boots completed the 'runway meets Hot Topic' look.

Intrigued, he found he was anticipating seeing if her face matched the vibe the rest of her gave off. Almost eager.

The bin overhead shut with a decisive click and he only got a brief glimpse of jet back hair in a pixie cut, bright red lips, dark eyes rimmed in kohl, and large silver hoop earrings with a matching nose ring before she took her seat.

She looked like she was a whole lotta trouble.

And, if he were lucky, a whole lotta fun.

* * *

She hadn't glanced at him once!

Before he could say so much as a 'hello,' she'd slipped her headphones on, plopped into her seat, and proceeding to filter out everything around her (including him!) while fiddling with her cell phone.

It irritated him. He'd been called a lot of things, not all of them complementary, but 'ignorable' wasn't one of them. When he walked into a room, people paid attention. People  _flocked_  to him. Sought him out.  _He_  was the one that did the ignoring.

It wasn't even like she was doing anything important – just watching videos on the damn thing. Over. And Over. And Over.

And he was boooooorrrrrrrred!

The plane levelled off and the fight attendant returned with their drinks. When his seatmate slipped her headphones off to say thank you, Hikaru pounced on the opportunity. "Kinda early for that sorta thing, isn't it?" he asked, a bit peevishly after having been overlooked for so long, and pointed towards her whisky.

OK, so it wasn't the  _best_  pick-up line in his arsenal, not that he ever had to use any. The circles he ran in, he hadn't had to exert himself to charm a woman in… a really,  _really_  long time. Everywhere he went, people knew who he was. They either wanted to hook up with him or they didn't. Any more conversation than 'can I buy you a drink' and 'your place or a hotel' was just window dressing.

Glass half-raised to her lips, she executed a slow, deliberate body-turn in his direction. Her eyes were neutral, but knowing, hovering on the border between amusement and disdain. She recognized a lame-ass come-on when she heard it. A slight smirk on her lips, she trailed her eyes from his face, down his torso, lingered around his waist, glided down his thighs to where his legs disappeared under the tray, and then retraced the route all the way back up. When they reached his face, amusement had won out, making her eyes gleam like polished ebony, and Hikaru's body thrummed in response.

She wanted to play!

She arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow and pointed at his gin and tonic. "Projecting, much?" Making sure he was looking, she took a deliberate sip of her drink and made a happy little purr, like a kitten lapping at cream.

Angling his body to face hers, he lifted his glass in a silent toast and winked. "I'm from New York, it's still happy hour there."

She burst out laughing, it ran over his spine like a caress. "Really? 'It's always five-o-clock somewhere?'  _That's_  the excuse you're going for?" Settling back into her seat, she tossed him a challenging look over her shoulder. "Come on, homie, man up – what's the real reason? Unlucky in business or unlucky in love?"

Now it was his turn to arch an eyebrow in inquiry and she snorted. "You know what I mean - with men it's always one of the two."

Her observation cut too close to the bone and he started to withdraw. He might have started this game, but he'd only meant for a light flirtation not to bare his soul. A quick rebuff and she'd bury herself back in her headphones and he could bury himself in…

He drew a blank. He couldn't focus enough to work and his plans to drink himself into a stupor and sleep the rest of the flight didn't hold much appeal anymore. What the hell – strangers on a plane and all that. He'd caught mischief, intrigue, and even a spark of lust in her eyes, but not one hint of recognition. What was the harm in sharing secrets with someone you'd never see again.

She was a distraction, and he could use one right now.

He took a sip of his drink and set it down. "Business is good," he conceded.

"Ah, love it is," she replied. Leaning back, she crossed her arms and gave another long, slow look that had his body tightening all over. "Hmm… let's see – good looking, in first class so rich or successful or both." Her lips twitched. "And you don't seem  _that_ much of a douchebag." She leaned forward, propped her elbows on the shared armrest and rested her chin on her hand. In a low sultry, voice she said, "So, tell me, just how bad a boyfriend were you that she dumped you?"

Her face looked like she hoped he'd been very, very bad.

Angling his body towards her, he leaned in and waggled his finger in front of her face. "Uh-uh," he teased, matching her tone, "Your turn first. What's got you drinking at the crack of dawn – business or love?"

She smirked. "Neither." He held her eyes until she caved with a throaty laugh, floppin back against her seat. "You see, with women, there's a third reason we start drinking before noon." She lifted her glass in a salute. "Our mothers." Tossing back the rest of her drink, she faced him again. "Your turn, bad boyfriend."

"For the record," he replied, "I was an  _excellent_  boyfriend." He shrugged one shoulder half-heartedly. "She just didn't want to be my girlfriend."

"Ouch." she wrinkled her nose. "Friend-zoned, huh? That sucks. Didn't realize that kinda thing happened to hot guys too." She turned a direct, sympathetic gaze on him full blast. "You must've really like her to be hitting the bottle."

Last night, he'd had to reassure Honey a thousand times that he was doing OK. As soon as he got home, he'd have to repeat the lie to Kaoru a thousand more. But right now, right at this moment, he could indulge in honesty. "Yeah, I did. I do. Have for a long time – first girl I ever loved."

If he'd seen an ounce of pity, he would have stopped. Would have drawn back. But the tilted head, the soft black eyes only encouraged him to continue. "Fell in love all the way back in High School. We lost touch for a while, but when we met up again she was single, I was single, I thought…" He trailed off, picking up his glass to help keep from getting maudlin.

"I guess nobody forgets their first love." Lifting her glass, she clinked it against his. "To unrequited first loves."

He smiled over the rim of his glass. Maybe it was the freedom of being able to confide in a stranger, but the pain which had consumed him was ebbing. Becoming less immediate. Less urgent. Or maybe it was that the electric attraction sparking between him and his unexpected companion was drowning it out. Lust overwhelming hurt.

He shot down the rest of his drink and summoned the attendant, ordering another round. Enough of this, it was time to stop moping. He'd kicked the habit of wallowing in his own misery six years ago and he wasn't about to pick it up again now. "Your turn," he said after the attendant had dropped off their drinks, "Tell me, what kind of idiot friend-zoned a drop-dead sexy woman like you?"

Now she looked hesitant, her finger lazily tracing a figure eight on her tray using a spilled droplet. Then the corner of her mouth quirked up in a 'what the hell' smile so tempting it was almost edible. "Well," she drawled, "In my case it was more of a 'sorry-but-I-want-to-date-Ethan-zoned.'"

He flinched. "Oooh, straight-zoned.! I'm not sure if that's better or worse."

Leaning back in her chair, she smoothed her hair behind her left ear and tossed a teasing look from under lowered lashes. "Better, I think – at least that way you know it really is them not you. Although," she rolled her eyes, "It would have been nice if he'd figured things out  _before_  he slept with me. Makes the whole 'losing your virginity' memory so much less romantic."

"I'll bet," he snickered, "Although I remember losing mine as more of an achievement."

"Men!" she huffed. "Don't you all?" Bringing her drink to her lips, she gave a small shrug. "Eh, I suppose that was just the risk I took dating another dancer."

A dancer. He ran his eyes over her toned physique. Well, that explained a lot. "Ballet?"

"Hell, no!" she sputtered on her whiskey, "I liked to eat too much. Besides," She patted her hip, "Way too many curves to fit the ideal shape."

And thank the gods for that. He shifted in his seat, feeling his body tighten as his eyes darted to the body parts in question. "Do you still dance?"

"Yes, for my sins," she chuckled, "I was just crazy enough to try to go pro after High School. Commercial dance, though, not a company. You know – the kind you see on music videos and concerts. Six years later, I'm still at it."

"Anything I'd know?"

"I did half of a tour with a high-profile pop diva who melted down mid-way through and ended up in rehab but, other than that, I doubt it. Not unless you're in the Industry?" She tilted her head at him inquiringly, silently asking who he was to merit first class.

Hikaru spread his hands wide, "Sorry, not a Hollywood big-wig – just a computer programmer whose company wants to be sure they can reach him at all times." He hadn't lied, not exactly. The anonymity was… fun. He liked knowing her responses to him were because of  _him_. That they were  _real._

"Pricks," she snorted, "Expecting you to work in the middle of the Pacific. Your boss sounds like a dick."

"He is," Hikaru assured her, eyes as wide and innocent as Honey's.

"Damn. And here I was wondering if I'd landed in the plot of one of those romance novels my roommate leaves lying around." She touched her fingers to her chest dramatically. "Poor, starving artist finds herself on a plane next to a mysterious hottie who turns out to be an incognito rock star or self-made billionaire with a kink fetish. One hundred and fifty pages of steamy sex ensues."

HIkaru mimed offense. "Only a hundred and fifty pages?" Leaning in, he brought his lips to her ear and whispered. "We'd need three hundred, at least. I'm very inventive." A slight gasp and a shuddered exhale had him grinning ear-to-ear. Now he wouldn't be the only one shifting uncomfortably in their seat for the next nine long hours.

Shooting him an irritated scowl, she knew what game he'd been playing, she took a gulp of her drink.

Straightening, he asked, "So, how does a poor, starving artist wind up in first class?"

He could see her struggling over whether to let him set the conversation back into safe territory or call him on his bullshit. "Perk of the job, like you," she replied, apparently deciding that a few miles in the air was not a good place to start a fight. "The last couple of years I've been working on making a name for myself as a choreographer, trying to quit the day job. The manager for a girl-group saw some of the videos I posted on YouTube. He thought the style was a good fit for their debut video and hired me." She made a circle in the air to indicate the cabin. "He was really happy with my work and used some of his miles to upgrade me."

Hikaru frowned - more likely, the manager had been trying to get in her pants. Couldn't blame him, though, they were nice pants. "I'd ask what group, but I probably wouldn't recognize it," he replied, "Too many new ones out there to keep up with."

"I don't think I can pronounce it anyway. My Japanese consists of saying hello, thank you, and ordering another round of drinks."

"How could you work if you don't speak the language?"

"International language of choreography." She lifted her hand and counted off on her fingers. "And  _go, roku, shichi, hachi…_ and ugh, ugh…" Lifting her arms over her head, she waved them in wide circles that undulated her torso with each grunt. "…yat-ta, ya-ta…" Two sharp pivots of her right leg. "…bamp!" Arm extended palm out and head dropped to the side in a freeze, followed by a slight rocking of her shoulders as if still vibrating from the force of the motion. Raising her head, she clapped her hands together. "OK!" She circled her finger in the air. " _Mo ichido!"_

Some of the other passengers were glaring, but Hikaru was too convulsed with laughter to care. Soon, his companion joined him, dissolving into giggles. "See? I really don't need to know more than how to count to eight and say 'do it again.'"

Her cheeks were flushed an enticing shade of pink from the effort and he summoned the attendant another round of drinks to cool them down.

"Sounds like you had fun," he remarked while she rehydrated.

"I did – the food was incredible, and the girls were really sweet. Looked like cutsey, widdle princesses, but they could hang." She ran her hands along the lapels of her jacket. "They even gave me this as a thank you present. Supposed to be from some big Japanese designer." Her eyes crinkled and she smiled conspiratorially. "No idea who, but I acted excited. Didn't want to hurt their feelings." He almost burst out laughing again, he couldn't wait to tell Kao  _that_! "Just wish I could have stayed long enough to see more."

"Why didn't you?"

"Ah," she sighed and slumped down in her chair. "And that's my reason for  _this_." Picking up her glass, she swigged part of it down. "My little sister is getting married in two days."

"Um… congratulations?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong." She waved a finger in the air. "I'm happy for her. But my best friend, you know, the one who 'straight-zoned' me? He had promised to be my 'date' for the thing. God, he was  _perfect_  too," she sighed, "An unemployed, atheist, actor-slash-model. Mom wouldn't even  _hint_  about me marrying for fear it would be with him. But just before I got on the plane, he emailed me he couldn't make it. Got cast in  _Hamilton_. Bastard.

"So now, the whole time, it's going to be  _'Mija,_ why can't you settle down like your sister. He's an accountant you know? All this dance, dance, dance! You have to think of your future – you aren't getting any younger! How 'bout I call Tia Luz's nephew, Eduardo? He just made branch manager! You know, forty is not that old anymore. They say it's the new thirty!" She rolled her eyes. "Mothers. Gotta love them."

Hikaru nodded sagely. "Can't kill 'em." His face froze in panic. "Oh shit, I just realized – my brother's engaged now which means Mom's gonna start in on me again! Fuck!"

They looked at each other in shared horror, clinked their glasses together in support, and downed their drinks.

* * *

Hikaru's head shot up at the soft 'ding' of the seatbelt sign coming on and the crackling order from the pilot to prepare the cabin for landing. Had it really been ten hours already? It had flown by without him realizing it. They'd just kept… talking. About everything – work (with some facts omitted on his part, of course), friends, family, school (she'd busted a rib laughing when he explained what a host club was), and even some of the stupid shit he'd never told anyone. He had sprung for on-board wi-fi, so she showed him some of her videos (and oh, man, she was beautiful and graceful and hot-as-fuck when she danced) and he'd demoed a few of his games. He couldn't remember the last time he had spent ten hours with a woman just hanging out and having fun. Without any ulterior motive or expectations. He didn't even know her name.

It had been… nice. He guessed he needed the distraction more than he'd realized.

He gave a deep sigh, realizing his brief respite from his life was ending. Cuddled up against his chest where she'd fallen asleep while they watched an in-flight movie, his seatmate began to stir. Pushing herself off his pectorals with her hand, she rubbed her eyes – disturbing her make up and giving her the look of a raccoon. A sexy, disheveled raccoon.

"Oh, are we landing?" She used the reflective surface of her phone as a mirror and started to fix her hair and eye liner. "You should have woken me up earlier, sorry for crashing on you like that."

He really hadn't minded. "I tried, you just drooled."

She barked a laugh, not believing him. Finishing her efforts, she peered out the window. "Shit, it's night here. This is worse than a red-eye – I'm all jazzed up from the time difference, doubt I'll sleep at all tonight. Which sucks because I have a six-hour drive to Napa tomorrow."

Running his hand through his hair, he felt equally hyped. He supposed he could sleep on the flight to New York. This had been fun, a nice break. A needed distraction. But now it was time to return to reality, he had to get back to…

To what, exactly? The only thing waiting for him in New York was a brother who'd tip-toe around him, being all 'sensitive' and crap. Who needed that? Right now, another few days of anonymity sounded like balm to his wounded heart.

And then, Hikaru got an idea.

An awesome idea.

A wonderfully, wickedly,  _awesome_  idea.

Why not? Work had done without his presence for months, they could manage a few more days. And didn't hair-of-the-dog work just as well for heartbreak as it did for hangovers?

"Why don't I go with you?" he blurted out, keeping his tone casual. It would be creepy if he acted like he cared too much about her answer.

She sat blinked at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"Take me with you, to your sister's wedding." he repeated, "I have some vacation coming and work is slow. To be honest, I could use the break – I can be your beard. Keep your mother off your back."

Crossing her arms, she gave him a skeptical once-over. "I don't know, I'm pretty sure I saw this scenario in a  _Lifetime_  movie once. It ends with me buried in a shallow grave in the desert."

He grinned, she hadn't said 'no' outright. He just had to convince her he was safe. "The guy who stood you up, he's a model right? Lives in New York?" She nodded and he pulled out his cell phone. Leaning in close, he took a selfie of the two of them. Him smiling, her rolling her eyes. "I've got a messaging app on this thing," he said, handing her his phone, "Text that to your friend and ask if I'm safe to take home to Mama. Oh, and you should probably tell him I'm the  _other_  one."

Unconvinced smirk in place, she did as she asked. "Who's the original one, then?"

"My brother. We're twins."

The phone dinged an incoming message in less than 30-seconds. He beamed as the wariness slid off her face and her eyebrows rose so high they hit her hairline. "Wow. Marcus typed 'OMG!' so many times I think he broke his keyboard. Who the hell is your brother?"

"He models," Hikaru obfuscated, "Pretty well known in the New York fashion scene."

"Ok, I guess you might be trustworthy. Or at least I have documented evidence that I was with you for the investigation into my disappearance." She handed his phone back to him. "But, are you sure? My family is kinda crazy."

"I like crazy. It's been awhile since I got to play a prank like this, it'll be fun." She needed a bit more convincing, so he pulled out the puppy dog eyes. "It would just be nice to spend a few days around people who don't know my heart is supposed to be broken. Please? If I go home I'll just have to put up with my brother and his boyfriend constantly asking me if I'm 'ok'. That's like – torture. Think of it as being a Good Samaritan."

"Well, if I'm doing a good deed…" Her eyes sparkled like black diamonds. "Think you can tell my mom that you're a musician? And maybe Jewish?"

"Well, I can't play a note so that might be a problem. Would saying I play video games for a living and that I'm Buddhist work?"

"I think that might be good enough." She nodded slowly. "OK, bad boyfriend. If you insist, then you can spend your vacation in Napa with my crazy family."

"It's Hikaru. Hikaru Hitachiin." He stuck out his hand. "I don't think you want to introduce me to your folks as 'bad boyfriend.'"

"Don't know, I think that might  _really_ put Mom off nagging me to get married," she replied. She slipped her hand in his and shook it. "Christina Ruiz."

Christina. Pretty name. He liked the sound of it. "You won't regret it." He kept a hold of her hand when she tried to pull away, turning it over and running his thumb across the back. "And I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman the whole time."

"Really?" Her eyes flickered over him and the tip of her tongue poked out to wet her lips. "Cause that would be a damn shame."

Oh, yeah, this was going to be fun.

And, if he was lucky, a whole lotta trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, you aren't imagining things – this is the second post in a week. I know the next chapter will take longer, this one was just flowed out of the last one so it was a faster write.
> 
> This is just a little Omake because I want all the hosts to end up happy. I'm hoping that now he's finally found closure with Haruhi, Hikaru can finally start looking at other women as people and maybe even try having a relationship with one of them.
> 
> Happy New Year, y'all.


	25. Visualizations

"Maria-oba! Toma-niichan! We're over here," Daiki called out indiscriminately to the crowd streaming into the arrival lobby. Heads, bearing an equal mix of indulgent smiles and disapproving frowns, turned to watch the boy bouncing up and down on his toes, arms waving like a bird taking off.

"Dai-chan," Haruhi stifled her own smile, turning it into a reproof. "What did I say about proper behavior at the airport?"

The child dropped onto his heels with a thud and dropped his gaze to the floor. "No running, no shouting, no skipping…"

Hearing a strangled sound coming from the rich, black-haired bastard at her side, she turned to glare. Kyoya met her narrowed eyes with a cool expression dripping in faux innocence.

"…no yelling, no bouncing, no asking to pet someone's puppy, even if it's  _really_ cute…"

"Remind me what you're doing here again?" she grumped. She hadn't invited him, but somehow he'd wound up coming along anyway. But that was Kyoya, going around inserting himself in his life as if she weren't still angry with him.

The first few weeks after she and Hikaru broke up, Haruhi had buried herself in studying - finals were looming and that came first. She'd still managed to find time to blister Kyoya's ears over how he'd quietly put a distance between them while she'd been dating the elder Hitachiin. As if her dating someone and her and Kyoya's friendship were somehow mutually exclusive!

It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd just admitted his mistake. But, of course, the rat had refused to apologize. He'd simply done that pompous trick of his, pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger, and asserted that he hadn't felt it  _appropriate_  to do anything that might make someone she were dating feel uncertain. Even if that person was a moron like Hikaru.

He was completely in the wrong! And, maybe, a tiny bit in the right, the arrogant ass! New relationships were fragile and she'd seen far too many dissolve over unfounded jealousy to not concede he had a point. Still, that didn't make it okay for him to decide things on his own!

And so, half-way into her summer break, they remained at an impasse. At least in her mind –  _he_  continued to act as if everything between them was fine!

"I'm merely repaying the hospitality Ocampo-san showed me in Sapporo," he replied in a deceptively mild tone that didn't fool her one bit. "You don't have a car and it's an hour trip to your house by train."

"We could have managed." She crossed her arms petulantly. Sometimes she wished she could get under his skin as easily as he did hers. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

He smiled politely. "But now you don't have to."

Gods, he was infuriating!

"…no talking to strangers, no taking candy from strangers, not even nice obaa-chan's, no…"

"Ok, I think that's enough." With a last scowl at the Shadow King, she looked down at her son and cut off the litany. "Just stand by my side properly, please."

"But…" Daiki's lower lip quivered. "How will they see me? I'm too small!"

Kyoya put his hands on the child's shoulders and Daiki leaned his head back until their eyes met. "Now that's one problem I can solve," Kyoya drawled. At a summoning gesture from his employer, the fair-haired man hovering in the background stepped forward, grabbed Daiki by the waist, and hoisted him up onto his shoulders.

"Oh! I can see everybody!" Daiki wrapped his arms awkwardly around the bodyguard's neck. "Thank you, Tachibana-san!"

"Stop grinning," Haruhi ordered Kyoya under her breath.

Kyoya quirked an eyebrow. "I never grin."

"You're grinning on the inside," she insisted peevishly.

"Perhaps." His lips twitched. "But don't you find an element of nostalgia in the instructions you gave on what not to do at the airport?"

Haruhi couldn't stop the chortle that rose up and made her shoulders shake as memories washed over her. "Oh  _kamisama_ , you're right." She was sure every last one of them had come out of her mouth at one point during high school. Including the one about the puppy. "I guess the Host Club was good preparation for motherhood."

Kyoya's eyes glittered. In anyone else she'd say they twinkled. "Although Daiki-kun behaves himself better in public than at least half our members did."

They shared another smile and, just like that, the warm camaraderie they shared slid back into place. He hadn't apologized. She hadn't forgiven him. But, maybe, they would simply have to agree to disagree on that topic. Trying to stay angry at him was too exhausting – like punching water.

"There they are!" Daiki's cry pulled her attention back to the lobby. "Maria-oba! Toma-niichan! We're here!" He waved his arms back and forth vigorously while Tachibana kept a tight grip to make sure the boy didn't fall off.

"Hauri-chan!" Maria squealed as she burst out of the crowd. She threw her arms around the younger woman, pinning Haruhi's arms to her side. "It's so good to see you!" Stepping back, she grasped Haruhi's arms and looked her over. "Oh! Tokyo has been good to you! You look wonderful!"

"Ocampo-san, welcome to Tokyo." Kyoya stepped forward with a polite bow. "How was your flight?"

Maria jumped, not having seen the man by Haruhi's side. "Ootori-san!" Her head swiveled back and forth speculatively between the two of them before turning wide, excited eyes on Kyoya. "The flight was incredible. Would you believe it? They overbooked coach and had a lottery to upgrade someone to first class. And we won!" She clasped her hands to her breast. "So luxurious! Did you know they use real plates and glasses for the meal?"

Haruhi missed his reply as she narrowed her eyes at the suspected source of Maria's good fortune. Damn. Now she definitely couldn't stay angry with him. Maria had no status, no power. Doing this couldn't benefit him in anyway. No, he'd done this for her. Because he knew just how much she treasured Maria's friendship. She should have known he'd manipulate his way out of her being upset with him. Sometimes she didn't know if she wanted to hit him or hug him.

"Maria-oba, welcome!" Daiki reached toward the Filipina matron, tumbling off Tachibana's shoulders and into her arms.

"Dai-chan, look at you!" She snuggled the boy clinging to her like a baby koala. "You're getting so big!"

"I grew four centimeters." He held up his fingers in emphasis.

A scrawny adolescent fought his way out of the crowd. Balancing a suitcase in one hand and an oversized, cloth-wrapped package that screamed 'home made food' in the other, he bowed low to Haruhi. "Fujioka-san, thank you for your hospitality. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

Haruhi smiled at her first, and still favorite, student. "It's no trouble, Thomas-kun," she replied, "I'm looking forward to showing you around Toudai. What other universities will you be visiting while you're here?"

Maria set Daiki down and wrapped herself around her son's left arm. "Oh, we'll be looking at Hitotsubashi as well. Maybe Tsukuba if we have time before we leave to check out Kyoto, Nagoya, and Osaka.  _All_ the top national universities." She reached up to ruffle the teen's head, her face glowing with pride. "Thomas was first in his class again this term. I'm sure he can go anywhere he wants."

"Kaa-san!" Thomas whined in protest, accepting the praise with typical teenage grace.

"Good job," chorused the Fujiokas.

"Impressive" was Kyoya's contribution. "You'll be checking out their law schools, I presume? I understand your interests lie in that area."

Kyoya's attention had the young man subtly straightening up, throwing his shoulders back as if standing before a superior. "Yes, sir." Casting a quick glance in Haruhi's direction, he gave an apologetic half-smile. "But immigration law, not criminal." A shadow passed over his face, hardening his jaw and lighting his eyes up with determination. "I want to be able to fight for all the  _hafu_  whose Japanese fathers never acknowledged them and all the kids born and raised here who are only one change in government policy away from being deported to a 'homeland' they never knew. I want to make sure this country looks after  _all_  its children, not just those with the right blood."

Thomas's eyes widened in the silence that followed. In an instant, the boy was back, replacing the glimpse he'd shown of the man he would become. Rubbing the back of his neck, he made a sketchy gesture that was half-nod, half-bow. "Ah, sorry. Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away."

"Don't apologize." Kyoya flicked it away with a wave. "That was very well said. I didn't hear Ouran University on your lists of schools to visit, have you considered it? We have an excellent law program and a strong alumni network."

"I would love to attend Ouran, but…" Thomas's flushed red with embarrassment over what he had to admit. "But, it's at least twice as expensive as any of the others. Erica's in high school now so I want to be able to pay my own way."

"Thomas!" Maria hissed under her breath, "I told you I'll figure something out for wherever you want to go. If you aren't considering this school because of cost…"

"No." The teenager cut his mother off with a sidelong glance at the other two adults, a silent plea not to make a private argument public. "I'm almost an adult, Kaa-san. You need to take care of Erica and the twins, not worry about me."

Maria gave her son the universal parental look meaning 'this isn't over.'

"It's not generally known," Kyoya interjected into the contest of wills, "But every year the Chairman offers five scholarships through his private family foundation, one for each of the law, engineering, and business schools and two for the new school of music. He awards them to hand-picked candidates from backgrounds less…" The word 'privileged' hung in the air but he was too smart to use it. "…typical of most Ouran students. Full tuition for all four years, dependent on continued high academic performance of course, and a generous living stipend. I can provide you with the details, if you're interested."

"Ye…yes!" Thomas stammered, a tentative hope lighting his eyes. "I'd be very interested. But, a school like that… well, it's pretty elite. Do you really think I could qualify?"

"There are no guarantees, competition for the slots is fierce and the final decision belongs to Chairman Suoh, but you are the type of candidate he likes." Kyoya glanced at Haruhi, his eyes lit with amusement. "Just try not to be too annoyed if he insists on proclaiming you a hero."

Haruhi took one look at the Ocampos glowing faces and made her decision. Hug him. In this case, she definitely wanted to hug him.

Tachibana trundled up with a cart containing the rest of the luggage. He was so good at making his presence in the background unnoticed, Haruhi hadn't even realized he'd gone. Silently, he took the bags and packages from Maria and Thomas's hands, stacking them on the cart.

Kyoya beckoned towards the exit. "Why don't we discuss it further over dinner, after you've settled in at Haruhi's." He nodded in her direction. "We can celebrate  _both_  our first place scholars."

Now it was Haruhi's turn to flush awkwardly under the congratulations.

At a nod from Kyoya, Tachibana headed towards the exit, the crowd parting before him like a Japanese Moses. Daiki followed in his wake, tugging Maria and Thomas along by their hands. Kyoya walked forward a few paces while tapping away at something on his cell, his steps slowing until he was at the back of the pack.

Haruhi decelerated her pace until she drew alongside him. "Thank you," she murmured under her breath. He looked up, puzzlement knitting his brow, and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't give me that, you know what for."

Slipping his phone back in his pocket, he pushed up his glasses imperiously. "There's no need, I simply informed a bright young man of an opportunity he might not have been aware of."

"Bull. Shit." She enunciated carefully. "You aren't giving him information, you're sponsoring him - those scholarships require a recommendation from a board member. The education he'll get, the connections he'll make - it could change his life. I know you could just have easily chosen a kid whose family would be able to repay the favor somehow. "

"I prefer long-term benefit over short-term gain." Kyoya shrugged. "Thomas-kun strikes me as the type of person who will be successful no matter what. It will only benefit me if he believes he owes some part of that success to me."

Haruhi snorted. "Oh, come on! That has to be the weakest excuse for doing something nice that you've ever given me. Cut the crap,  _Senpai_ , and accept my gratitude like a man." She stopped suddenly, forcing him to swing around to face her. When she had his full attention, she repeated herself slow and deliberately. "Thank. You."

"Well, if you insist." A smile flitted across his face. A real one – warm, gentle, almost tender. A smile that made her feel like, for once,  _she_  was the victor in whatever game he was playing. "Your welcome, Haruhi."

* * *

"Ack, turtle-shell! No fair!" Thomas' cry of mock outrage wound down the hallway and into the kitchen, followed by peals of childish giggles. "Oh yeah? Let's see how you handle this – banana peel!" The giggles turned into a high-pitched shriek drowned out by more masculine laughter.

The two women sitting at the kitchen table smiled at each other over their cups of tea. "Oh, I've missed that sound," said Maria, "Thomas is much too serious these days."

Haruhi laughed ruefully, "I think that's the natural state of most third-years. If it hadn't been for my friends, I don't think I would have poked my head up from my books from June to February during mine. And  _I_ had a guaranteed spot and scholarship as long as I kept my first-place position."

"Mmm… you mean friends like the charming Ootori-san?" Maria asked with a sly twinkle in her eyes.

"Maria-chan!" Haruhi rolled her eyes and huffed in exasperation. "Stop imagining something that isn't there. I've told you, we really are just friends."

The older woman's smile broadened. "I'm just saying he seems awfully involved in your life for someone who's 'just a friend.' Getting you this house, helping you find a job, picking up strangers he barely knows at the airport for you…"

"That's just because he has an obsessive need to control everything and likes to get his own way," Haruhi snorted, "And none of my other friends are much better, meddling in my life is kind of a hobby for them. Practically a competitive sport."

"Well," Maria drawled with a smirk, "If you say so…"

"Stop misreading things." Haruhi shook her head in denial. The woman simply wasn't going to let this go, not until it was explained properly. "You have to understand, Kyoya… well, I'm not sure he had any real friends before Tamaki." Funny, how she could say his name now without fear that tears would follow. Time had transformed the pain into a warm, lingering ache. "That's not something he can easily let go of. To him, I'm still Tamaki's girlfriend. The mother of Tamaki's son. Yes, we're friends too, but a lot of the concern he shows me is due to that. He's the type to take that sort of thing seriously."

Maria tilted her head, searching the younger woman's face. With a reluctant sigh, she seemed to accept Haruhi's account of the relationship. Picking up her cup, she sipped cautiously at the hot tea before putting it down. "Pity. I was hoping…" she shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

"Tokyo has been good for you." She made an up-and-down gesture with her hand encompassing Haruhi from head-to-toe. "You look so much happier, and healthier, than you did a few months ago. Back then I was always afraid that one day I'd get a call saying you'd been hospitalized for exhaustion, especially after you got that manager's job. I suppose I was hoping your love life was blooming as well."

Haruhi winced involuntarily and Maria's eyes sharpened like an eagle spotting its prey. "Ooooh! There  _is_  something going on! I know that look – Erica gets the same one whenever she has a new crush and she thinks she can hide it from me." Leaning forward conspiratorially, her eyes gleamed. "Tell me all about it. Is he handsome? How long have you been dating?"

"No, no." Haruhi waved her hand back and forth in front of her face, but she knew Maria's curiosity wouldn't be dismissed that easily. She needed to give up at least some details. "It's… well, it's all over now." Shoulders drooping, she traced a lazy, swirling pattern on the table with her finger. "It was someone I knew from before I left. But, it didn't work out."

"I'm sorry about that." Maria's hand covered Haruhi's, giving it a brief squeeze before she drew it back. "But, I'm glad you tried."

"Really?" She huffed, "Because, I'm not. I thought I could date him as a friend, see where things went. I didn't realize just how much I would hate it if it  _didn't_  work out. I don't like causing pain to someone I care about."

"Endings always hurt, even when it is for the best." Maria spoke with the air of someone carefully choosing their words. "Still, it's good that you put your heart out there. That you allowed yourself to be open to finding love. It will make it easier the next time."

"I don't think there will be a next time," Haruhi said with finality. "I'm not cut out for this sort of thing. Hikaru, the guy I dated, he was perfect in so many ways. If it couldn't work with him… if it couldn't work with someone who was nice and fun to be with, not to mention good looking, then maybe, it's a sign I've already met my destined one. That Tamaki was it for me."

Maria took a long sip of her tea, then set her cup down gingerly. "Haruhi-chan, you've only been open to the idea of dating for, what, a few months? For a long time you were… comfortable with things as they were. With it just being you and Dai-chan. Sometimes, when we start something new and encounter a failure, it's tempting to want to flee back to someplace we know, even if it wasn't a place where we were happy.

"I think what you need is to give it more time. Really consider whether you  _want_  to fall in love, get married, have more kids even. Maybe…" Maria shrugged one shoulder and smiled. "Maybe you should picture yourself ten years from now, picture yourself happy, and figure out what that life would be like."

Haruhi's face screwed up in distaste. "That sounds a bit too much like fortune telling for me."

"Oh, it is not!" Maria chastised. "It's... well, think of it as a visualization technique for figuring out what you want. It's how I've determined what paths to take in my life. Why I stayed in this country instead of going home after the divorce. Why I didn't take a higher paying job where I'd have to work nights when it was offered. How I know that, once the twins have graduated high school, I'm going to open that restaurant everyone says I should. Because I imagined my future and picked the one in which I was happiest."

It still sounded like a bunch of self-help nonsense to Haruhi but she didn't want to hurt Maria's feelings. "I'll think about it," Haruhi replied, meaning no, and turned the conversation to other topics.

* * *

Haruhi stepped out of her bathroom into the master suite, running her hands over her forearms to rub in moisturizer. It smelled good. And expensive. Since it was another one of those little items that mysteriously appeared in her purse every time she'd been at the Hitachiin house, it probably was. Oh well, at least it was useful – her skin got dry in the summer and the over-priced crap  _did_  seem to help better than her normal drugstore brand.

Pulling back the covers, she crawled into bed and shut off the light. After a life spent sleeping on futons, the western style bed felt a bit awkward. She was getting used to it though. Just like everything else that had changed since she came to Tokyo.

'Comfortable.' That's what Maria had called the life Haruhi had built for herself and Daiki in Sapporo. Comfortable, but not happy. She supposed there was some truth to that. The constant struggle to make ends meet. The fear of what might happen if the Suohs found her. The loneliness. They'd all tugged at her, preventing her from finding anything more than contentment with her circumstances.

Things were better now. She could definitely say that, even if it galled her to admit Kyoya had been right to encourage her return. But, while she wasn't  _unhappy,_  she couldn't fully claim happiness either. It felt more that she was on the road to it, a destination that was approaching but which she hadn't quite reached.

She'd never really thought about what it might look like when she arrived.

She turned over on her side, snuggling her head against her hands. Imagine ten years in the future… It sounded ridiculous, a westernized misinterpretation of eastern mysticism. But, what the hell, it's not like it could hurt.

Start with the basics, the things she knew had to be there. Ten years from now, she'd be a criminal defense lawyer. Probably not partner, yet, but definitely a fully licensed attorney with a solid client base and able to do pro bono work on the side. And she'd still be living in Tokyo – it was home. Her friends were here. Daiki's grandparents were here. This was where her life was.

Smothering a yawn, she let the tension of the day ease out of her through deep, calming breaths. Without even realizing it, she slipped into sleep…

_Haruhi pulled her car in through the front gates and parked in front of the door where the it would be easily accessible. That was important. Somehow, she knew that leaving the house soon after arriving back from work was a frequent occurrence. Exiting the car, she locked it and trailed her hand lightly along the side of the white mini-van._ _A part of her recognized this was a dream, something conjured up during her bedtime 'visualization.' But knowing this and having control over it were two different things. Unwilling to summon the effort needed to wake, she let the dream take her where it willed._

_Looking up at the house before her, she smiled. Even her dreams were modest, unable to come up with anything more luxurious than where she lived now. She walked up the steps, opened the door, and called out a greeting but received no reply. She wasn't alone, though - piano music drifted through the closed living room doors and filled the hallway. It was beautifully played with hints of missed timing and occasional repeated phrases that suggested it was live and not a recording._

_Slipping off her shoes, she noticed that jumbled in the entry were multiple pairs of familiar-looking school shoes in assorted sizes. Leaning down, she straightened them out and knew, in the way you knew things in dreams, that this was a daily habit._ _After placing her purse on the console table, she started up the stairs to change her clothes into something more comfortable for cooking or errand running. The Haruhi in this life, she sensed, was a busy woman with little time to sit still. But, apparently, that's how she liked it._

_Her hand gripped the banister as she headed up. Like now, the wall adjoining the stairway was covered in photographs. Looking closer, she saw that the images had changed. Some were blurred, as if hiding from her, but others were as so clear it felt like looking through a window._ _She halted with a gasp at one - a young man, illuminated by a spotlight, played a piano with an enraptured look on his face. The spitting image of a dark-haired, teenage Tamaki, it could only be their son. Her heart squeezed and tears formed in her eyes, but instead of crushing loss she felt only comforting warmth accompanied by pride._

_The next series of pictures were of strangers that somehow seemed familiar - a grade-school girl with long, black hair and a serious expression held a trophy almost as big as her, the wording on the wall behind her proclaimed the picture taken at the 'Tokyo Junior Chess Championship;' two children with messy brown hair, matching uniforms, and identical grins lacking front teeth each holding a soccer ball; and Daiki, again, in an Ouran High School uniform next to the dark-haired girl wearing the elementary school version, with the brown-haired twins in kindergartener-wear (one in shorts, the other in a skirt) standing in front of their older siblings._

_The last picture on the wall was also the biggest. A horde of children clustered together under blooming Sakura trees. All but three appeared to be under ten, but that's where the similarities ended – the three unknown children from the earlier pictures, tall and somber brunettes, impish golden-haired tots, grinning redheads, a boy and girl with skin the color of ebony, and a pair of twins with rainbow-colored Mohawks. In the back row, dead center, stood Daiki and a boy who looked so much like Kyoya he could only be Takeru. Each had one arm wrapped around the gorgeous, auburn-haired girl between them._

_Smiling to herself, Haruhi made her way up the rest of the stairs towards her bedroom. So her 'happy' life of the future included happiness for all her friends as well. Or at least lots of babies._

_Removing her jacket, she hung it up in the closet while taking a look around her bedroom. It was clear two people occupied it – one half of the closet was filled with dark-colored suits, one bedside table contained the hard-bound biography of an influential judge and her glasses while an e-reader lay on the other. Unbuttoning her blouse, she looked down and realized a diamond solitaire circled her ring finger._

_A footstep sounded in the hallway and she turned around, but the words 'welcome home' died on her lips at the figure in the doorway. At the pair of gray eyes so filled with love that not even a pair of glasses could hide it._

Haruhi woke with a start and pushed herself upright, shaking her head back and forth trying to throw off the dream like a dog did water, heart thudding against her chest like a taiko drum.

What. The. Fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for this one to take so long, but I ended up rewriting it several times - cutting out and rearranging huge swaths of it before I got it to where I wanted it. With this, the 'summer' arc is complete and with the next chapter I'll move into fall – the season where everything that's been growing until now reaches maturation.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has kudo'd or left a comment - you are what keep me at this.


	26. Family

"And  _then_  she threw a water bottle at his head!" Kaoru's indignant shout was so loud, Haruhi nearly dropped the phone wedged between her ear and shoulder.

Haruhi scrambled for it, propping the fridge door open with her foot and juggling a carton of eggs in her other hand. "Sorry," she said once the phone was firmly back in position, "You lost me there – who did what?"

Kaoru sighed heavily, clearly exasperated she wasn't giving him enough of her attention. "My choreographer – you know, for my show? I  _told_  you all about it last week!"

"Oh right, I remember," she lied to forestall him spending the next thirty minutes telling her about it in excruciating detail. Again. Last week she'd just ended up putting the phone on speaker and folded the laundry while he rambled on. She vaguely recalled enough of what he'd said to get the gist of it – instead of a 'boring' runway show he wanted to introduce his new line via something called a 'guerilla marketing' campaign. Why that somehow involved a warehouse, a dance battle, and high tech special effects was beyond her. "Why would your choreographer try to brain Hikaru with a water bottle?" She paused, considering. "I mean, other than because he's Hikaru."

"I don't know! That's what's so weird about it – I'd barely introduced them when she started shouting at him in Spanish and then, *BOOM,* water bottles were flying. Which sucks because ever since that J-POP video she choreographed went viral, she's totally trending. I was lucky to book her back in May before she got famous. Now I have to figure out how my brother pissed her off and get him to fucking grovel if he has to."

Stifling a snort at the likelihood of that happening, Haruhi finished putting away her groceries. "Maybe Hikaru's not at fault. It could be a misunderstanding." She tried putting an optimistic spin on it for Kaoru's sake.

"Somehow I doubt that. Not that I was going to say anything while you two were dating, but my brother's kind of a dog when it comes to women. Oh god!" He exclaimed, "He slept with her. That has to be it – I'm not sure when because she's from LA, but he slept with her and now I'm the one that's screwed. Shit. Sorry, Haruhi, I need to go kill my brother. Love ya!" He ended the call in a flurry of goodbyes and admonishments to talk again soon.

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Haruhi set the phone down on the kitchen counter. For six years she'd lived without the Hitachiin twins in her life, it was surprising just how much she missed them after only a couple months. The weekly phone calls and near daily emails they sent helped, but she still couldn't wait to see them again.

Hikaru had been right, what they had was more than friendship. They were family.

A loud thump sounded from the family room and she winced. She'd set Daiki to his usual Saturday morning chore of dusting – which in his case meant occasionally swiping a cloth over furniture while trying to sneak around the room as if he were a ninja.

She never should have let Honey teach him karate.

Speaking of chores... she turned back to the fridge and crossed 'grocery store' off the list magnetized to the door. Just the laundry left and she'd be done for the day. The nice thing about University was the summer break lasted well into September so she had two whole weeks where Daiki was in school and she wasn't. With her internship as her only job, she'd been able to catch up on housework, spend more time with her son, and experience her first real break in six years.

Her phone chimed and incoming message and she darted for it. Reiko was a week overdue and she was expecting a summons to the hospital in any minute. But, no, it was just Kyoya, confirming her attendance at the next charity event his mother was throwing. She started to type a reply, then tossed the phone aside. She'd deal with it later.

It wasn't that she was avoiding him, not really. And she certainly wasn't doing it because of a stupid dream. Dreams were meaningless, just the brain's way of organizing the events of the day. There was no significance beyond that – she'd once dreamt a shoal of tuna had sprouted legs and were chasing her through the city. It didn't mean she stopped eating  _otoro_.

If it hadn't been for Maria's insinuations, the 'dream' husband could have just as easily been the post man, or one of her study partners, or any random stranger she'd met on the street that day. It was ridiculous that it was taking so long to banish it from her mind. She supposed she should count herself lucky, because it could have been a sex dream and wouldn't  _that_  be awkward. "God, that was a month ago, Haruhi," she murmured to herself, "Let it go already." Right, laundry. That's what she needed to focus on. Striding out to the foyer, she put her phone back in its usual place next to her purse where it would be easy to find.

Before she could head upstairs to fetch their dirty clothes, the doorbell rang. The high-tech visual security thingy that Kyoya'd insisted on installing showed a young man in a yellow-and-red uniform emblazoned with the name of a courier company. She recognized him from around the neighborhood, he was a frequent visitor. Apparently rich people didn't like the post office. Or maybe they thought  _their_ correspondence was always so important as to require same-day delivery.

Opening the door, she greeted him politely, and signed for the thin, cardboard envelope in his hand. After he'd departed, driving his van back out through the gate, she shut the door and examined her package. The sender's name was a law firm she was familiar with from work, strange they'd deliver something to her home. Even stranger it was so important it couldn't wait for Monday. Ripping the envelope open, she slid out a thick set of papers bound together by a binder clip. Little yellow tags poked out of it, which she recognized as markers for where the document would need to be signed. Weirder and weirder. Brow wrinkled, she started to read – easily parsing through the legalese.

One minute later, the packet slid from her trembling hands, falling to the floor with an ominous thud.

* * *

Nightblade, the world's greatest ninja, carefully studied his target. The king's chamber was surrounded by a moat filled with spikes and alligators and snakes and... and...  _acid_  and all sorts of other bad stuff. Sneaking around the edge of the outer wall, he considered the long building next to the palace. If he climbed up the back and rolled over the roof, he could just stretch over enough to reach his goal without falling in.

He nodded to himself. It was a great idea! General Takeru couldn't have come up with a better one himself.

Before he could try, the wall gate flew open and he froze, widening his eyes to look like he was behaving properly. The head palace guard would be mad if she knew he'd been about to put his feet on the couch so he could dust the coffee table without touching the floor. She'd scold him.

"Dai-chan," Mama said, calling him by the name Nightblade used when pretending to be a normal boy, "You can finish this later. Right now I need you to do something for me."

Daiki obediently put down the cloth and looked at her, a twisty, sick feeling forming in his stomach. Mama didn't look right. Didn't sound right. She had a big smile and was speaking with the 'happy voice' again. The one that meant she didn't want him to worry.

He started to worry.

"I need you to go upstairs. I've put your suitcase on your bed, I want you to pack clothes and toys for a few days. We're going to go on a trip."

"But… I have school. And I'm supposed to go to Ru-chan's tomorrow to play. And…"

"Dai-chan, stop arguing!" Mama snapped, her smile turning into a line with teeth. "Just… just do what I said, alright?"

He nodded, the knot in his stomach getting worse. With slow, halting steps he left the room and walked up the stairs, aware of Mama watching him the whole way. As soon as he turned the corner out of sight, he leaned against the wall and strained his ears. It was quiet for a minute, and then he heard her talking to someone on the phone, but it was too softly for him to catch the words. When her voice stopped and her footsteps thudded on the steps, he bolted into his room.

The red suitcase she'd bought for him for when they'd moved to Tokyo was open on his bed, some clothes already in it. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mama reach the top of the stairs and turn her head towards his room. He went to his dresser, pretending to gather things to pack. When she nodded to herself and headed into her room, partly closing the door behind her, he dropped the clothes in his arms onto the floor and grasped his head in his hands.

He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. It felt like something was winding around his chest, squeezing it tight. Like the Boa Constrictor he'd seen at the zoo eating the mouse. Everything felt really, really,  _really,_ wrong.

And he didn't know what to do.

'Cause he wasn't a ninja. Or a superhero. He was just a kid and he didn't even know what had Mama acting funny. Hands clenching into fists, he closed his eyes. "Papa, Ojii-chan, Obaa-chan – I'm scared. Help me!"

The answer came so fast his eyes snapped open, making the snake release its grip and his stomach settle. He remembered now.  _'The first mistake is trying to handle it yourself.'_  That's what Papa would tell him. Some problems were just too big, they needed a grown-up.

Knowing what to do now, he walked on tip-toe to his door and peeked down the hall. The door to Mama's room was mostly closed. She was moving around her room, but wasn't looking up, wasn't watching him. Just in case, he closed his door a little so she couldn't see in. Taking a deep breath, he waited until the next time she disappeared from view and padded out into the hallway, moving as quick and quiet as a bunny, just like Uncle Honey had taught him.

Once he hit the stairs, he sped up, taking them so fast he was almost jumping over them. His eyes darted around the entry until he found Mama's phone on the table, right where she usually left it. She'd shown him how to use it, just in case, and he pushed the button that listed all her friends. He knew how to read Ojii-chan's and Shima's names, but they weren't who he needed. Screwing his eyes tight, he tried to remember the kanji his uncle had shown him. There were three characters in the name, the first looked like a man sitting on a chair under a house. Opening his eyes back up, relief washed over him when he found the character on the list and he pressed the 'call' button as hard as he could.

~oOoOo~

Kyoya's fingers continued to fly uninterrupted over his keyboard when the phone rang, only stilling when he glanced down and saw the caller ID. A frisson of warmth burst in his chest, bringing an unguarded smile to his lips.

Haruhi had finally stopped avoiding him.

She'd been subtle about it, but he picked up on it all the same - the delayed replies to his messages, the excuses she made to not meet him for coffee, the scurrying off to socialize with others at parties. He just wished he knew why. He hadn't done anything recently to upset her - she was refreshingly straight-forward about letting him know when he'd pissed her off.

The fact she didn't play the 'I'm-mad-but-won't-tell-you-why-or-how-to-fix-it' game like other women was item #12 on his list of why he loved her.

There had to be a reason other than anger for her skittishness around him. If he'd had a more optimistic nature he'd think… But, no. It was too soon – she'd only just started to stretch her wings. Just begun envisioning a future for herself that didn't include Tamaki. And the woman was dense as a rock when it came to romance (item #15. The list wasn't prioritized). It had taken her almost a year to realize her feelings for the Host King when to everyone else they'd been obvious from the start.

Besides, Kyoya hadn't even begun to court her properly, wasn't yet in a position where he could. Another man would have rushed things, fearful of losing her to someone else, but he was patient and had faith in his plans. A month ago, he'd started laying the ground work. He'd let the seeds germinate for a while longer then, if things hadn't yet moved in the direction he desired, he'd start dropping stronger hints. By his calculations, things should come to fruition by next spring. A year or two after that, he'd be able to pursue her openly -  _without_ raising questions he could never answer. Not without risking her hatred.

Others might chafe at the delay, but not him. He'd waited this long, what were a few years more?

"Haruhi," he answered the call, a teasing lilt to his voice, "To what do I owe the plea…"

"Ootori-ji?" The thin treble, wavering like it was on the verge of tears, sent a lightning bolt of pure ice lancing through him.

"Daiki-kun? What's wrong? Tell me!" Kyoya was out his apartment door, down the hallway, and pressing the button for the elevator before he'd finished the sentence.

The tiny, hiccup-y sob on the other end of the line had him clenching his fist to keep from pressing the button again. What the hell was taking the elevator so long? He cast his eyes at the exit to the stairwell, dismissing the idea as soon as it crossed his mind. Even with the unacceptable delay, the lift would get him to the garage faster than racing down sixty flights of stairs.

"It's… it's Mama. She…" Another hiccup cut off the rest.

The doors opened and Kyoya stepped inside, hitting the 'garage' and 'close door' buttons nearly simultaneously. "Shhh… I need you to calm down. Take a breath and tell me what's going on, okay?"

A shaky inhale, then a whispered, "'Kay."

Keeping his voice low and soothing, letting it be an anchor the child could hold on to, Kyoya guided Daiki through explaining the situation. It took the length of the elevator ride, and the boy's account was jumbled and interspersed by sniffles, but Kyoya was able to grasp the most important detail – Haruhi was running away.

Again.

But  _this_  time, he wouldn't let her. Not after all it took to bring her home.

The elevator reached the garage and he emerged from it before the doors had fully opened, striding briskly towards his car. "You did good calling me," he soothed the frightened boy, "Now, hang up the phone and go continue packing like your mother said. I'll be there soon."

"But…" Daiki protested.

"Daiki-kun," Kyoya admonished firmly, "You need to be a good boy and obey your mother. Don't worry her anymore that she already is." He was in his car and backing up in record time. "You've done your best, now let me handle things, all right?"

"All… all right, Ootori-ji. But… get here soon? Please?"

Kyoya floored the accelerator and reigned in hard on the panic thrumming through him, transmuting it into resolve. "I will. I promise. Whatever is happening, I'm going to fix it."

* * *

Kyoya let himself into the house with the spare key he'd obtained back when he'd rented the property for her. He'd kept it in case of emergency. He felt this qualified. Daiki was sitting on the stairs, clutching his stuffed Tanuki like a talisman. On seeing the door open, he popped to his feet and flew at Kyoya, hugging him around the knees.

Kyoya ruffled the boy's hair reassuringly. "Is your mother upstairs?" Daiki nodded an affirmative. "I'll go talk to her. Why don't you go and watch TV?" He didn't want the boy to overhear anything that might scare him further.

Daiki hesitantly released Kyoya's legs but didn't move away. Kyoya crouched down, looking him in the eye. "Everything will be okay. Can you trust me to protect you and your mother? To keep the two of you safe?"

The boy gnawed on his bottom lip, considering. Making his decision, he threw himself forward, clutching Kyoya around the neck in a fierce hug. "Thank you, Ootori-ji," he whispered.

Kyoya awkwardly returned the embrace, patting Daiki's back reassuringly. Silently, he amended his earlier resolution – he wouldn't let Haruhi run away and he wouldn't let her take this boy away from him either. They were both too precious to for him to easily let go of.

Releasing his grip, Daiki headed into the family room, closing the door behind him and Kyoya walked up the stairs. He paused at the half-open door to her room, observing her. She bustled between her closet and the bed, stuffing items at random into the open suitcase lying on it. Not wanting to startle her, he knocked softly to get her attention before pushing the door open.

She seemed unsurprised at his appearance. "What are you doing here? Spying on me again?" The Haruhi who could be so unperturbed in the face of almost anything was gone. The woman before him was so upset she was shaking, a frightened being operating on animal instinct, and masking it all under a thin veneer of bravado.

"Daiki-kun called me. He was scared." He saw her wince at that, regret fliting across her face. "Haruhi," he asked gently, like a man confronted with an enraged bear, "Let me help. Tell me what's wrong."

"What's wrong?" She barked a laugh tinged with hysteria. Picking up a stack of paper from the bed, she threw it at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. He pressed his hands against the pages to keep them from falling to the floor. "What's wrong is that I trusted you! I believe you when you said it would be okay! But I knew! I  _knew_  something like this would happen. I should have run when I had the chance!" Haruhi resumed pacing her room like a caged tiger, stalking to the dresser and tossing through it to find more clothes to take with her on her flight.

Kyoya clutched the document she'd flung at him, turning it over so he could read it. It took a minute to parse through the overly-complicated legalese it was written in, but once he did the panic he'd been fighting slowly ebbed, replaced by a deep, profound, irritation. What the hell was Suoh thinking? It was much too soon for this, Haruhi wasn't ready. And to take it in this direction? It was rash, bordering on disastrous.

All those months of work Kyoya had put in, and the Chairman went and nearly ruined it all by jumping the gun.

"It's a custody agreement," Kyoya stated calmly, careful of stoking her fear any further, "For Daiki-kun."

"The Chairman wants to adopt Dai-chan, add him to the Suoh family register," she choked out, face twisted in anger, "The bastard even offers to make a  _living arrangement_  for me. As if I would sell off my own son!"

Kyoya flipped through the pages, processing the relevant details. "It doesn't seem that Yuzuru-san is trying to take him away. This implies the registration would simply be a formality. Daiki-kun would continue to live with you."

Haruhi stopped her pacing, turning to confront him, radiating as much anger as if Suoh himself stood in front of her. " _That…"_  she snarled, pointing at the reviled document, "Isn't even worth the paper it's printed on. All that matters is who's register a child is on. This isn't the West; joint custody doesn't exist here. Daiki-kun can be his son or mine, but not both. Private custody arrangements are unenforceable."

"Then refuse," he suggested. It wouldn't solve the central issue, but it would give him time to talk with Suoh. To arrange a solution so she wasn't acting out of impulse, being driven by fear.

"Hah!" she scoffed, "You said it yourself,  _Senpai,_  'the rich can make life very difficult for people who withhold something they want.' Well, I am  _not_  going to just sit back and let them have my son!"

"So, you're, what? Going to run away again." He couldn't keep the derision out of his voice. The first sign of trouble and she reverted to the girl who never asked for help.

"No," she replied, surprising him. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and resignation filled her eyes, but her hands were wringing together as vigorously as is she were squeezing water from a used dishrag. "I thought about it. It would be easier, but I've made promises. And I  _like_  my life now. Or, at least, I did – I suppose that's gone now too. I'm going to New York. We can stay with the twins for a couple of months while I figure out a strategy." Her lips twisted in a bleak smile. "Hell, maybe I'll marry Hikaru after all."

"Don't be foolish!" He hadn't meant to shout, but the thought of her running to the twins, to Hikaru, drove away all ability to remain level-headed. Haruhi's eyes widened and she opened her mouth, no doubt to shout back, but he put his hand up to forestall her. "You are smarter than this, Haruhi. Stop reacting like a mother and start thinking like a lawyer!"

His outburst seemed to stun her out of the state she'd worked herself into. Her shoulders eased back, and her arms dropped to the side. He lowered his voice, keeping it cool and dispassionate. "This agreement…" He lifted the document with one hand. "…Would put Daiki-kun on the Suoh family register but leave all other guardianship rights and responsibilities in your hands. In essence, day-to-day life for all of you would remain unchanged. Ask yourself, then, what benefit would Yuzuru-san gain from it?"

Haruhi inhaled deeply, steadying her nerves. The cloud of terror that had enveloped her from the moment she opened the envelope was beginning to dissipate. The way Kyoya framed his question allowed her to step back, to look at the situation objectively, as if it were a nothing more than a homework assignment to solve. Involuntarily clenching her jaw, she struggled to remember the relevant lectures.

"Nothing, except…" Facts she'd filed away bubbled up from the storage area in her brain where she'd shelved them. The family register underpinned all of Japanese family law. It recorded not just lineage, but also status and proof of citizenship. It enmeshed an individual within a web of relationships that conferred both rights and responsibilities and dictated everything from who could receive a National Health Insurance card to financial support obligations due dependents to inheritance. " _Except_ ," she stressed, "For a legal connection to Dai-chan."

Kyoya gave her a small smile and chin nod, encouraging her to continue, and she knew was on the right track. Because the most important thing about the register was that the relationships on it were based on  _acknowledgement_  not  _blood –_ making legal paternity tricky when it came to illegitimate children.

Children like Daiki.

"If Tamaki hadn't died, we could have married, or he could have acknowledged paternity on his register," Haruhi said slowly, putting the pieces in their proper place, "Either of those would declare Dai-chan as Tamaki's son and Yuzuru-san's grandson. But he didn't and it's too late now. In the law's eyes, I'm Dai-chan's only family."

"The Chairman is still a young man," Kyoya stated, "But losing your only child unexpectedly is a strong reminder of one's own mortality. Legally, what would happen to his property after his death? What would happen to Suoh Enterprises?"

"At least a portion is reserved for his wife," she answered promptly, "That's how Shizue-san managed to retain control after her husband's death. Since he has no living children, parents, or siblings, he should be able to will the rest, either outright or in trust, to whoever he wants."

Kyoya lips twisted up in an ironic half-smile. "Ah, but that is only  _technically_  true. We are talking about a great deal of money and control of a family-owned conglomerate that controls half the financial sector in this country. Yuzuru-san's father had two sisters, both of whom spawned broods of their own. Were he to attempt to leave the company in the hands of anyone who is not a clear,  _legal_  successor, his cousins would bring lawsuit after lawsuit against the estate to try and take control."

Haruhi nodded thoughtfully. "You're saying that this isn't about gaining guardianship of Dai-chan, but about making sure he can be named heir."

"It  _is_  the logical conclusion." Kyoya shrugged. "Certainly you've been around the wealthy long enough to understand just how important legacy is. Daiki-kun is a Suoh by blood, the son of the last heir, and a beloved grandson of the current head. Chairman Suoh won't allow him to be effectively disinherited due to a technicality nor will he, as a CEO, risk a legal quagmire that could last years and cost the company billions."

"And adopted children are considered fully legitimate successors. If he wanted to leave everything to Dai-chan, it would be an unassailable legal position." She let out her breath in an angry huff. "Shitty rich people! Like that's the important thing, here? Dai-chan doesn't need the money, and he doesn't need his entire future decided for him because of a… because of an accident of birth!"

"It wasn't an accident, though, was it? Not entirely," Kyoya rebuked her sharply, "You knew what getting involved with Tamaki would eventually entail. Don't be angry simply because Suoh wants to secure what should have belonged to Daiki-kun from the start."

Guiltily, she recalled who she spoke to and how much his own 'accident of birth' had impacted his life. "You're right," she admitted, the fight draining out of her, "And I suppose it helps some to understand what's driving him to take this step." She ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated at the lack of an easy solution. "But I can't agree to this, however well-intentioned. Dai-chan is MY son. I won't let anything change that!"

"I agree. I promised you back in Sapporo that I wouldn't let that happen and I'll put all my resources at your disposal to fight it if necessary." Kyoya did his finger-pushing-up-his-glasses routine followed by the light-glinting-off-the-lenses-so-you-can't-read-his-eyes trick. "But, now that you're thinking instead of reacting, maybe you can see a path forward that would meet both your needs."

She blinked. What was he talking about?

She blinked again. A child could only be the son of one family, could only have a legal claim on the parent whose register he was on. How could she and Suoh possibly come to an agreement that conformed to the law? It wasn't like she could (or would) marry him so they'd all be on the same record.

She blinked a third time. Oh shit! Realization hit her like a runaway truck, making her knees buckle, and she gracelessly sat down on the bed with a thunk.

Kyoya, the ass, smothered a laugh. "I see you've found it."

Mentally, she ran through all the statutes, all the legal precedents, seeking a flaw and finding none. "It would work, assuming we're right about what he wants. But… do you really think he'd agree?"

"I do, especially if he knows you're prepared to fight and that you aren't without supporters. He won't want a prolonged legal battle that would only result in alienating Daiki-kun and gaining the animosity of not just me, but both the Haninozuka and Morinozuka heirs and quite probably the entire Hitachiin family." Drawing up next to the bed, he dropped to one knee in front of her and took both of her hands in his. It startled her. Kyoya was the least 'touchy' of all the former hosts, including her. That, along with his expression, let her know just how serious his next words were. "Haruhi, before you decide anything, make sure it's what  _you_  want. You have no idea just how difficult it will be, how much pressure you'll be under. It will change  _everything_  about your life. If it were up to me, I would keep you from it. In the long run, fighting would be better. For you."

Closing her eyes briefly, she murmured a plea in her head.  _'Mother and father in heaven, what should I do? Is this the right path?'_  A feeling of peace rushed through her as the answer came back loud and clear. Things would change, but she knew who she was and nobody could take that from her. The woman she'd become was strong enough to make any sacrifice, shoulder any burden, to protect her son. To not let him be suffocated by the world that would seek to claim him.

And she knew, without even having to ask, it's what Tamaki would want her to do.

"I'm sure." She jerked her chin in emphasis. "It's not what I would have wanted for myself, but I think it's the best for Dai-chan, and for Yuzuru-san. Family... family was important to Tamaki, I can't dishonor his memory by fighting. Not if there's a better way. I'll talk to Yuzuru-san, convince him this can work. But first," she qualified, "I'm going to need a really good lawyer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the key piece in Kyoya's end-game. I'm sure many of you are able to figure out from the not-so-subtle clues dropped just what it is. If not, all will be answered in the next chapter (which might be shorter than normal).
> 
> I am not an expert, and I glossed over some details, but the family law mentioned here is as accurate as I could get after combing through way too many law journal articles. Any mistakes should be considered a result to the unique alternate reality that is the Ouran-verse. Since both time and physics apparently work differently there, I'm pretty sure the law can too.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's kudo'd or commented, you are the best!


	27. Smiles

As the stretch limo pulled up in front of the Suoh family mansion, two liveried footmen sprang out to meet it, opening the back passenger doors the second it came to a stop. On the side opposite the house, Kyoya stepped out and nodded a perfunctory thanks before turning to assist the Fujiokas out of the vehicle.

No.

He gave a brief shake of his head correcting his thoughts – to assist the two newest  _Suohs_. That  _had_ been the point of this day's activities after all.

One would think that the adoption of a new scion for a house that controlled, directly or indirectly, most of the financial sector in Asia would be a grandiose occasion – a ceremony only rivaled by a coronation. One would be wrong. The actual event had all the pomp and circumstance typically involved in renewing a driver's license.

First was the lawyer's office which, although very well appointed, was still an exemplary illustration of function over form. There, Yuzuru and Haruhi had signed, stamped, and initialed their way through a thick stack of documents contrived to protect Daiki's interests in the case of any conceivable eventuality an entire law firm, handsomely paid for each hour they spent on the subject, could come up with. Kyoya, invited to serve as a witness along with Shima, dutifully signed his own attestations well past the point he thought his hand would fall off.

The formal adoption occurred, just like it would for any other family, at the Bunkyo Civic Center - a building with the architectural elegance of a giant Pez dispenser. Although, unlike any other family, the Suoh party was met at the door by both the Director of the registration office and the Minister of Justice himself, escorted to a private conference room, and assisted in filling out and filing the relevant forms by a bevy of secretaries.

Haruhi had glared at him the whole time, as if the fuss were somehow his fault and not the result of her new family name. Well, she'd just have to get used to it. She was now one of those 'damn rich bastards' she went on about - Suoh Haruhi, legal daughter and heir of Suoh Yuzuru.

Kyoya stretched out his hand to the woman at the center of the day's events, steadying her as she rose to her feet. Her brief smile of gratitude eased, but didn't erase, the strain around her eyes. He hadn't lied, he would have spared her this if he could. Having spent so much time around the Host Club, she thought she knew what it would be like, thought she understood the heavy burden of obligation leavened with privilege that came with belonging to a prominent family. But that was like believing that because your friend had a child, you knew what it meant to be a parent - some things could only be understood through experience.

In the end, it couldn't be helped. This was the best outcome, not just for her and Yuzuru, but for Daiki. Nobody should be deprived of their birthright, of their chance to seize hold of the legacy passed down to them by their ancestors, merely because of the circumstances of their birth. This had been the best, perhaps the only, path she could take.

The fact that it dovetailed so neatly with his own desires was incidental and had no influence whatsoever on that belief.

Because the alternative was unthinkable.

And if he was not as objective as he could have been? Well, the tiny pebble of guilt he felt over it was nothing compared to the mountain he already carried.

On the other side of the car, Yuzuru aided both his wife and Shima in exiting. As soon as the way was clear, Daiki bounded out on his own. More subdued than normal, he tugged restlessly at the neckline of his school uniform. He'd been well-behaved, for a given value of 'well-behaved,' but it had been a long day with little to amuse or interest a child. It was clear to Kyoya from one look at the boy's face that the boy's compliance with the formality he'd been forced to endure was coming to an end.

"Dai-chan," Anne-Sophie leaned down, hands supported on her knees, and smiled brightly at her grand-son. Kyoya hadn't been the only one to notice the impending rebellion. "Guess what? Antoinette-trois's puppies are ready to be adopted. We are going to keep two of them and  _you_  get to help pick."

Daiki instantly snapped to excited attention, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Really? Can I pick whichever one I want? Can they come home with me?"

Anne-Sophie straightened, her sparkling laugh filling the air. "No,  _mon petit chou,_  they will need to stay here. But you can play with them whenever you visit." She clasped his hand in hers. "Come, I'll have the footman bring them to the patio. Haruhi-chan," she said, looking at her new daughter, "Shall we have some tea while we wait for dinner to be ready?"

Haruhi agreed readily, leaping at the opportunity to unwind from the stressful day, and the trio disappeared around the back of the house. Shima made her excuses as well, claiming she preferred to celebrate with her fellow servants despite her status today as a guest, and soon the two men were left alone.

"Kyoya-kun, would you care to join me for a drink?" Yuzuru gestured the younger man towards the house with a genial glint in his eye. "Something stronger than tea, I think."

Kyoya inclined his head, you couldn't live 26 years as an Ootori and not recognize a politely phrased order when you heard it. "I'd be delighted."

Yuzuru's smile broadened and he headed inside. Kyoya hesitated a moment, staring at his host's back and releasing a sigh. He wasn't sure what Yuzuru wanted to discuss, but he had his suspicions. Or, rather, he suspected that Yuzuru was the one with suspicions. Bracing himself, he followed.

The two men made their way to the back of the house where the Suoh Patriarch kept his private office. The large, rectangular, room resembled something out of the court of Versailles – reddish-pink upholstered furniture that matched the wall color, white wood wainscoting covered in curlicues, floor-to-ceiling bookcases in gold-inlaid cherry wood, and a crystal chandelier hanging from the decorative plaster ceiling. To the right of the door, opposite a desk that might have belonged to Louis XVI, the wall was dominated by an over-sized fireplace, above which hung a portrait of a young Anne-Sophie cuddling a cherubic, blonde toddler like a Baroque Madonna and Child.

Yuzuru strode to a bar area set against the interior wall and rustled underneath it, bringing out two crystal tumblers and setting them on the counter. "I know you favor Suntory, but I think today calls for something special." From the glass-lined cabinet behind the bar, he pulled out a bottle still mostly full of a rich, reddish-brown liquid which he poured into the waiting glasses. "Balvenie, 50 year."

Replacing the bottle in the cabinet, Suoh picked up the glasses and came around to the front of the bar, holding one out for his companion. "I'll be interested in your opinion, this is only the third time I've opened it."

Kyoya accepted his drink and followed the older man over to the French doors that faced the terrace. Out on the patio, Haruhi and Anne-Sophie sat at a bistro table laden with tea and sweets while, at their feet, Daiki tumbled around in a pile of puppies. Yuzuru nodded towards the trio. "The first time was when I found out about Dai-chan. The second when you informed me they'd be returning to Tokyo." Angling to face Kyoya, he lifted his glass in a toast. " _Kanpai."_

"Congratulations on your new family members." Kyoya returned the salute and took a sip. The rich, full taste of the exclusive single-malt scotch exploded on his tongue with the deep spicy flavors of a fall day. "Remarkable," he conceded, "I may have to add a bottle to my collection.

The two men drank in silence, watching the tableau on the patio. A light fall breeze whirled around the chattering women, lifting Haruhi's hair to give a tantalizing glint of the nape of her neck. How did that girl still remain oblivious to how beautiful she was? How effortlessly she could enslave a man? And, now, there were no more barriers to him pursuing her, to him courting her as she deserved. Every part of him yearned to declare himself, to see if she could view him as something more than a good friend.

But that would be a critical mistake.

The riskiest aspect of any plan was over-eagerness, and none so more with this one. Haruhi needed time to settle in to her new status and responsibilities and Kyoya needed time to build her awareness of him. At least three years, two at the most, were required to lay the groundwork so his eventual confession would not be a surprise, so that it would seem as if his interest in her was a natural outgrowth of their friendship.

Because he would never let her know the truth. The one he'd hid from everyone, including Tamaki. He could live with her rejection, he couldn't live with her despising him.

Out on the terrace, Daiki rolled onto his back and two golden puppies jumped on him, lapping enthusiastically at his cheeks. Anne-Sophie let out a peal of laughter which brought a tender smile to the Suoh patriarch's lips. "Now, that is a music I'll never tire of. Reminds me of why I fell in love." He moved towards the fireplace, and sank into one of two overstuffed, velvet upholstered arm chairs and waited for Kyoya to take the other. "I know you've heard the outline of the story, but I don't think I've ever told you what drew me to her." Yuzuru swirled the contents of his glass, gazing into it with a reflective smile.

"At the time, my wife and I were… not getting along." He waved his hand in front of his face vigorously. "Don't get me wrong, I take full responsibility for that. I resented my mother for forcing the choice on me and, despite my best intentions, it came out in how I treated my wife. No one, least of all I, could blame her for turning to someone who would treat her more tenderly.

"We were already talking divorce, but mother would not allow it.  _She_  thought the solution would be giving me more responsibility in the company, making me 'grow up,' so she put me in charge of negotiating a merger with a European firm." He laughed softly. "I'm not sure she thought that through. How could she believe me spending three months in France would stabilize my marriage? Maybe she thought absence would make the heart grow fonder instead of allowing both of us to realize we were happier apart."

Yuzuru stared intently into the empty fireplace, letting the vision of the past replacing the present. "About a month after I'd moved to Paris, a family friend invited me to a dinner party. I walked into the  _salon_ and, of course, the first thing I noticed was the pretty girl standing over by the fireplace. Some young idiot was fumbling over himself trying to impress her and she was too kind to rebuff him. I was about to put them from my mind, turn my attention to my hosts, when she laughed. And that's when I just…  _knew_."

Bringing his head up, he met Kyoya's eyes. "So many people get it wrong, you see." He gave a tiny shake of his head as if dismayed. "They mistake admiration, or friendship, or even desire for the real thing. But I'm convinced real love is when you find that one person whose smile you would do  _anything_  to protect."

Yuzuru looked up at the benevolently beaming Madonna hanging over the fireplace. "No matter what life threw at her – my mother's opposition to our relationship, her illness, even the separation from Tamaki – she never lost that smile. It gave me the strength to keep fighting for us when it would have been easier to go along with my mother's plans as I always had until then." He dropped his head, his tone bleak. "And then, on  _that_  day, it disappeared."

Yuzuru took a long sip of whisky, steadying himself. "I thought I would never see it again, and I didn't, not until three years ago when the private investigator's report from Sapporo landed on my desk. You have no idea," he hissed suddenly, turning to Kyoya, "Just how much I resented you for keeping that knowledge from me."

Kyoya bowed his head briefly. "I regret I had to, but you know why it was necessary."

Their eyes locked for uncounted seconds, then Yuzuru released his anger with a sigh. "Yes. The same reason I didn't bring them home the minute I found out. At that time mother was… well, you remember."

The younger man nodded, recalling the mood that enveloped Shizue following the loss of her grandson, the scion of the Suoh family. Tamaki had been her salvation and, after his death, she'd retreated back to the bitter, unhappy shell of a woman that she'd once been. In her grief, she became convinced it was all her fault. If she'd only acknowledged her grandson sooner, whisked him back to Japan the minute he'd been born so he could be raised properly, then maybe he would have been more aware of his duties as heir. Wouldn't have played around in that stupid club. Wouldn't have taken up with a commoner. Wouldn't have thrown his life away for some child he'd never met.

"Despite my taking over the company, mother still had a great deal of power," Yuzuru acknowledged, "If she'd known about Dai-chan, she would have used every bit of it to separate him from Haruhi, to make sure he was away from any 'unfortunate commoner influence. Maybe if I'd known how little time she had left…'" Yuzuru paused, considering, then shook his head in denial. "No. Even then I couldn't have done that. Tamaki would never forgive me if I had hurt the girl he loved."

"And yet you threatened her with that very thing!" Kyoya couldn't keep the anger out of his voice, the memory of the fear in her eyes, the trembling in her hands as she paced the length or her bedroom still haunted him.

Yuzuru lifted his glass to his lips and murmured softly, "Yes, I suppose I did."

Perhaps it was the tone that did it. Or the tightening around the mouth, the brief flicker in the back of the eyes. Kyoya's stomach dropped and his skin prickled. He recognized this feeling – it was the exact one he got when, completely confident the ' _Go'_ board was his to control, his opponent snapped down a piece in a Divine Move that changed everything.

"You wanted this outcome," Kyoya spoke slowly, putting the pieces together, "You knew if you asked outright, she'd refuse. She wasn't ready for that step, so you threatened her with the possibility of a custody dispute in order to get her to agree to this instead."

Yuzuru met his accusation without flinching. "I mean for Dai-chan to inherit someday, but he's far too young. He needs space to grow-up, to explore himself and the world without shouldering the burden of being my direct heir. I fully plan on being around to hand the reins over to him, but no man can predict the future. If the unforeseen happens, Haruhi is the best person to protect both the company  _and_  my grandson."

"It was unnecessary," Kyoya snapped, more sharply than he should to the man who held his future. "Haruhi is intelligent and knows the law, she would understand why you would want to take this step, and she's compassionate enough to go along with it. She just needed a few more months to adjust to the idea."

Yuzuru expression could only be called pitying. "You're young still, barely an adult despite your success. Young enough to think you have the luxury of waiting, to give in to the illusion that time is ever on anyone's side, but I don't. I  _can't_ ," he spat out bitterly, "Nobody knows more than I just how fast all your plans, all your expectations of the future can be overthrown in an instant.

"My family is complete, now - the way it was meant to be, how it would have been had fate not intervened. The woman and child my son loves both bear his name and have every protection I can give them. I will not apologize to anyone for that."

"Your way was too risky." In the face of the older man's pain, Kyoya's anger ebbed, but lingering discontent over the way Suoh had handled everything twisted his lips in a scowl. "She was ready to run away again."

Yuzuru's face morphed into a Cheshire cat grin. "Oh, I had every confidence that you'd manage to convince her. This was  _your_  desired outcome as well, after all."

The realization of how deeply he'd been outplayed hit Kyoya like a slap to the face.

Yuzuru chuckled softly. "You're very clever, Kyoya-kun. Your father is always boasting about that. But never forget that, in these things, you are still a young pup whereas  _I_  am a Very. Old. Wolf." In one movement he drained the rest of his whisky, setting the glass on a side table. "You played your part well, and I appreciate it, but now I think it's time you told me just what your intentions are towards my daughter."

That he had expected this interview, that he had rehearsed it since the day he'd walked into that restaurant in Sapporo, that he'd planned for it since the moment he'd understood exactly why Haruhi had run, did  _nothing_  to lessen the anxiety curling his stomach into knots. Consciously, he pushed any anger, any resentment, down into a little box and locked it away. It had no place here – not in what was the second most important conversation he'd ever have in his life. To get through this he'd have to do the most difficult thing ever asked of him.

He'd have to be completely and utterly sincere.

Setting his half-full whisky to the side, he straightened his back, rested his hands in loosely gripped fists on his knees, and faced Haruhi's father with every ounce of respect and formality he could muster. "My intention is that she not remain a Suoh forever," he proclaimed.

Yuzuru lifted an eyebrow. "Ah, I thought as much." He leaned forward, eyes sharpening like an eagle spotting prey. "Tell me, what came first? Your desire for the girl or for my company?"

"I am an Ootori," Kyoya responded calmly, refusing to rise to the bait, "I have no desire to be an adopted husband. Should… certain circumstances arise, I will ensure Daiki-kun gets everything that belongs to him and whatever more I can arrange."

"And why should I trust that?" Yuzuru scoffed, "What worth is the word of an Ootori in matters of profit?"

"Not the word of an Ootori," Kyoya replied, " _My_  word. And you should trust it because you know there are three people in the universe I would never betray." Lifting his hand, he indicated the French doors. "And two of them are out on that terrace." The third lay entombed in the cemetery.

Propping his elbow on his knee, Yuzuru rubbed his chin and considered the young man opposite him thoughtfully. "I wonder if you'd speak the truth if I asked how long you'd planned this."

Kyoya schooled his features into a mask of implacability and gave no reply.

"Your silence is it's own answer." Yuzuru shook his head and threw it back in a laugh. "Your audacity would be unbelievable to any who didn't know you," He relaxed, leaning back in his chair. "As much as your father proclaims he'll choose his successor based on merit, he's incredibly narrow minded when it comes to his children's spouses." His face broadened in a mischievous grin. "But not even a man as pretentious as Yoshio would refuse a Suoh so I won't hold your manipulations against you." Tilting his head to the side, his face took on an air of inscrutability. "And if I made it a condition that you  _not_  be named heir?"

Kyoya couldn't even pretend he hadn't considered he'd be faced with this choice. Pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger, he met Yuzuru's gaze with confidence. "I believe that would be a mistake – both our families will profit greatly from  _any_  alliance, one between the heirs most of all. Individually, we dominate Japan and influence much of Asia, together we could become a worldwide economic powerhouse." He intentionally relaxed his posture to indicate acceptance. "But if that is the only way… in the last few years I have built up my own empire, independent of my family, that would allow me to stand beside Haruhi as the partner she'll need."

Yuzuru nodded slowly, satisfied. "I won't agree outright, the choice isn't mine to make. I've no desire to arrange a marriage for my daughter as my mother did for me. She's the one you'll need to convince."

Exhilaration raced through him, but Kyoya refused to let it show by anything more than an easing of the tension in his shoulders. Then Yuzuru leaned forward suddenly, an intense look on his face, which quashed any feelings of triumph like sand douses fire.

"I have only one question before I withdraw any objection," Yuzuru said, his gaze lancing through Kyoya as if trying to peer into the younger man's soul, "Why?"

For the first time since they'd entered the room, Kyoya smiled. There was really only one answer he could give. "Because I want to protect their smiles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are escalating towards the end, only two or so chapters left plus epilogue. I've set a goal to finish this story before it's two-year anniversary in May.
> 
> A few legal notes for anyone who might be confused about what happened in this chapter and the last. I've read everything I could find in English on the topic and believe everything I've stated is accurate.
> 
> Begin boring legal stuff…
> 
> Unlike in the US, fathers of illegitimate children in Japan have no obligation to provide child support nor does the child have any inheritance rights unless the father officially acknowledges them on their family register. In cases where the father is deceased, there is a limited time (3 years) for the mother to file a court case to have the child added to the register. So Yuzuru was in a situation where even doing a blood test to determine paternity wouldn't allow Daiki to legally be considered his grandson.
> 
> Custody of children is all or nothing. In a divorce, the child stays on one parent's register. Often the other parent never sees the child again nor do they have to contribute to their care. Any arrangements, even made via a contract, are strictly voluntary and unenforceable. This was why Haruhi couldn't allow the Suoh's to adopt her son even if a contract existed giving her guardianship rights.
> 
> Japan also has a long history of adult adoption. At least 90% of all adoptions in Japan are of an adult male in his 20s or 30s. This is typically done to preserve the family line (and name) if the family has no children or if none of the children are considered suitable heirs. Some major companies have passed on the CEO position this way (Suzuki is currently on its 4th adopted heir). Adopted heirs are considered full heirs in both a legal and kinship sense and any children they have are also considered to be part of the family line. By adopting Haruhi, she became Yuzur's legal daughter and Daiki legally became his grandson, enabling both of them to inherit as 'primary' heirs who have a greater claim on the estate than other family members such as aunts and cousins.
> 
> What Kyoya rejected in this chapter was the chance to become a mukoyoshi or 'adopted husband' (i.e. he would take on the Suoh name if he married Haruhi and, presumably, become the Suoh heir). It would sever his legal ties to his own family making it impossible to succeed his father. Since inheritance can also pass through the mother, his remaining an Ootori (and, by implication, adopting Daiki if he and Haruhi wed) would not affect Daiki's ability to inherit from his grandfather. When Daiki is an adult, he could choose to return to his paternal surname if he wished thus preserving the Suoh family name.
> 
> …End boring legal stuff.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who kudo'd or commented (or both). It's my crack...


	28. Revelations

"Haruhi, if you don't relax you'll tear a hole in that very lovely dress."

Whipping her head away from scowling out the car window at the streets of Tokyo, Haruhi turned to glare at Kyoya instead. It wasn't fair of her, none of this was his fault, but he didn't need to sound so amused at the whole thing.

Bastard.

Her irritation only made him more entertained. His lips twitched up a whole quarter-centimeter! Sliding his eyes briefly off the road, he nodded towards the hands twisting together in her lap. "Of course, there's always the one your father wanted you to wear." His lips pursed together as if corralling the smile threatening to spoil his sardonic visage. "I believe he had the store deliver it to the mansion in case you changed your mind."

Haruhi released the death grip she'd had on the lace skirt with alacrity. The only thing that could make the upcoming party worse would be having to don the monstrosity Yuzuru had squealed over like a pre-school girl.

Kyoya eyes glittered with barely suppressed mirth. "I can see that option is off the table."

She huffed, falling back against the car seat. "The pink I could handle, but did it have to be so… so…" she shuddered, at a loss for words.

"Frilly?" Kyoya supplied, "Sparkly? Flouncy?"

"So much like a ten-year old with a princess complex!"

That surprised a snort out of him. "Well," he said when his shoulders had stopped shaking, "I suppose with the Suoh men, the tree didn't grow very far from the apple."

"Oh, gods – I know!" she laughed, "Tamaki would have been all over that thing."

"He'd find it irresistible." Kyoya casually dropped a hand off the steering wheel to shift gears. "I'd have to bribe one of the maids again to ensure Antoinette 'accidently' destroyed it."

"Only if you could somehow add that to my debt," she teased.

He cast an inscrutable glance at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Wait!" The word 'again' caught up with her and her eyes widened. "Is  _that_  what happened to dress he bought me for graduation?" The one with a million sequins, a kilometer of tulle, and a skirt which poufed out wider than she was tall. Even her father had declared it 'a bit much.'

"Well, I couldn't have the Host Club's princess show up looking like a contestant for a supermarket beauty pageant, could I? We had a reputation for good taste to uphold."

"Mmm-hmmm." He could pull the self-centered, pragmatist act all he wanted, she knew him too well to buy it anymore.

For all his narcissism, Tamaki had been highly perceptive and there was a reason Kyoya had been designated the 'mommy' of their little family. As much as he snarked, and grumbled, and occasionally terrorized – Kyoya was the one who looked out for all of them. He did it secretly when he could and waived it away when he couldn't, but he was the one who made sure their needs were taken care of, tried to ensure their happiness. And, really, wasn't that the essence of what a mother did? He was doing it even now, distracting her from her apprehensions about today with meaningless banter about her dress.

Oh lord, the dress!

She looked down at the one deemed acceptable. The one which epitomized just what had her twisting her newly manicured fingers together like pretzels. The search for it alone was enough to drive home to her just how important today was, just how much her circumstances had changed.

Three. Days. It had taken three  _freakin'_ days before the 'perfect' dress was found. Anne-Sophie had dragged her to what seemed like every store in Roppongi, tearing through the high-end shopping district like a modern-day Napoleon through the opposing armies at Austerlitz. It wasn't enough that it be stylish, designer, and cost more than the annual rent on her 1DK in Sapporo. Oh no, it had to be all that  _and_  'make a statement.'

Haruhi smoothed the skirt over her lap. Apparently, that statement required a simple sheath dress, modestly hitting just above her knees, with a black-and-gold lace overlay tatted to make the white silk underneath appear like a mosaic of chrysanthemums. It was meant to convey professionalism, celebration, wealth, longevity, and a fresh start.

Personally, she thought it was an awful lot to ask of a meter of fabric.

It was an awful lot to ask of  _her._  If she was still just Fujioka Haruhi the thought of the upcoming party, her first formal presentation to Tokyo society, wouldn't bother her. It didn't really matter if others disapproved of her for her social status, her background, or anything else – she would rise, or fall, on her own merits and put any critics in their place.

But, she  _wasn't_ Fujioka Haruhi anymore.

She didn't regret it, not really. Allowing the Suohs to adopt her had seemed such a simple thing at the time, and she still believed it was the right choice, but she hadn't expected all this… this…

Kyoya had warned her. She'd dimissed it when he said she didn't understand exactly what she was letting herself in for. But only now, after spending two weeks helping to put together the Annual Suoh Autumn Garden Party (into which both the Suohs and Kyoya had poured more strategizing and attention to detail than had gone into the invasion of Normandy), did she fully grasp what he'd been trying to tell her.

It wasn't the amount of work, or the responsibilities, or even all the relationships and history and business information she needed to memorize – it was the way Yuzuru looked at her. As if the hopes and expectations of over a hundred generations of ancestors rested firmly on her shoulders.

Gods, was this how her friends felt all the time? How could they stand it? How could they even get up in the morning without the weight of it crushing them right back into bed?

"Relax!" Kyoya ordered, his hand covering hers with a quick squeeze, sending a sharp tingle of electricity racing up her arm.

Stupid dream. Since that weird Maria-and-dumpling induced hallucination she'd had, it was like an internal switch had flipped to 'on,' She was always aware of him, his hands, his voice, the broadness of his shoulders, it was damned unsettling. She had consciously chosen not to dig any deeper, not to examine what her feelings for him might be. There was no future in it. She was an unmarried mother and he wasn't the type to walk away from his family. If he was, then he wouldn't be Kyoya and she probably wouldn't hold him in the same regard. It couldn't be helped, and she valued his friendship too much to make things awkward.

She'd learned that lesson with Hikaru.

He removed his hand and she felt a sudden pang of loss as it vanished. Shooting another glance at her, his face softened. "You're worrying too much, it won't be as bad as you think."

"Really?" She turned his trademarked expression, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, on him for a change. "Because what I  _think_  is that I'm about to be paraded in front of four hundred people who'll be scrutinizing me for any weakness."

"And that's where you're wrong," he drawled. He waited a beat and she almost relaxed, but then he  _had_ to go and elaborate. "Only about half of them will be sizing you up, the others will be too busy introducing you to any unattached male relation between the ages of twenty and fifty in the hopes of forming an alliance the old-fashioned way."

It took a second before his implication hit. When it did, Haruhi's eyes widened in shock. "Marriage?!" Her voice rose in something very close to a shriek. "But… but…"

Now he gave  _her_  the one-eyebrow-look, along with an infuriating smirk. "Don't tell me you hadn't yet realized you're currently the single most eligible woman in Japan?" He tilted his head as if considering his words. "No, wait. I misspoke – my sources say the Yan heiress finalized an engagement agreement this morning, so that would be all of Asia."

"But… but..." She seemed stuck on that word and she forced herself past it. "But I'm… I'm… I have a son!"

His expression took on one approximating a doctor giving a patient some very bad news. "Haruhi, I think you'll find that now you are acknowledged as the Suoh heir, the important part of the term 'unmarried mother' is 'unmarried.'"

She blinked, reeling in shock, not yet able to fully process all this meant for her. A central tenant of her life, of her understanding of what challenges society would throw at her, was overturned with that one sentence.

Kyoya returned his gaze to the road. "There isn't a single parent in society who wouldn't welcome you as a daughter-in-law."

"Including your father?" she blurted out jokingly. Kind of. Well, at least half. Shit! Why did she say that? Haruhi gripped her hands together tight so she wouldn't use them to cover her mouth.

"Especially my father," he replied darkly. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his lips narrowed in a line. "He's no less a hypocrite than anyone else in society – money and position washes away a host of perceived sins in his eyes." Kyoya turned towards her, forcing a smile. "But I've told you, my decisions are my own, so don't waste time worrying about his machinations."

Well, at least he was honest. She shrugged away the tiny curl of disappointment in her stomach.

"And," Kyoya continued, "Suoh has no desire to force you into anything you don't want. He knows all too well how badly an alliance made merely for the sake of two families can turn out and does not wish to see that situation repeated with you. Or Daiki-kun."

Oh, now he was just teasing her. "Dai-chan's five!" she scoffed, "Surely he's too…" Kyoya gave her such a pitying look that she trailed off. Fuck. At least a quarter of her classmates were engaged before starting high school, and another quarter before leaving it. Five wasn't too young at all – in fact, it might even be over-the-hill.

Haruhi groaned and buried her face in her hands. " _Kamisama!_ Why the hell did I even agree to this?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Kyoya answered it anyway. "Because you are a very kind person."

She dropped her hands and rolled her eyes, "Yeah right. Nothing at all to do with how he threatened my son."

"That might have been the impetus," Kyoya countered, "but it wasn't the reason." He dropped the smugness he typically hid behind, turning his smirk into a genuine smile. "If not even the smallest part of you is willing, nothing and nobody can make you do anything. That's been true as long as I've known you."

She snorted. "I think you've forgotten all the things  _you_  forced me to do to reduce my debt."

"Things you  _wanted_  to do, at least on some level," he asserted, "As troublesome as you found it, a part of you was having fun. The 'debt' just gave you an excuse to let yourself enjoy it."

She gave a slight, non-committal shrug. She remembered all too well just how pissed off the whole 'debt' thing had made her, his usually accurate judgement was way off base on this one. Still, hearing herself assessed in that way was… flattering. The person he described was strong, capable, someone who charted her own path in life. The person she'd always tried to be.

"No matter what you might tell yourself, you didn't agree to the adoption out of fear," Kyoya stated confidently, "And you certainly didn't do it for the wealth or to secure Daiki-kun's birthright. It was because you understood how much it hurt Tamaki's parents that they couldn't claim their grandson in the way it counts among our class – explicitly, undeniably, and, above all,  _legally_.

"And that is why you don't need to worry about tonight, because there is nothing you can do to disappoint them. You've already given Suoh the one thing he cares the most about - you reunited his family." Reaching down, his hand covered hers. "Everything will be fine, I promise."

Haurhi looked down at the hand enveloping both of hers. His fingers were so long, the proportions of his hand so graceful, she'd never noticed how large they were. Solid. And warm, too – she could feel it seeping in through her skin.

She sighed, letting the little knot of tension within her ease. It really  _would_ be fine, in the end. After all, she'd always been destined to be a Suoh, it was only the path to it that turned out to be unexpected.

"I suppose you're right," she conceded. An impish thought had her smiling up at him. "But I don't care what anyone says, I am  _not_  going to call him 'Daddy'".

* * *

"…and by leveraging the synergy between 3D printing technology and automated monitoring controls, my company will revolutionize manufacturing like Guttenberg did printing..."

Nodding amiably, Kyoya kept his 'social' smile firmly in place and let his attention wander away from the balding, middle-aged man who'd cornered him. The  _nouveau-riche_  were so tiresome! No sense of time, place, and occasion. Parties like this were about making connections, cementing alliances, even (if one were fortunate) scoring a victory over a rival, not for actually talking  _business._  It was something people not born to power never seemed to grasp.

Bored at the recitation of information his analysts had already presented him with, his eyes scanned the Suohs' spacious patio - skipping over women arrayed in colors to complement the deep scarlets and brilliant golds of the season until he found the one that outshone them all. The one who stood out, even in a landscape as crowded as this. Like a single perfect camellia in a field of showy, slightly desperate orchids.

Dear lord, listen to him! He sounded like a besotted schoolboy. If he wasn't careful he'd wind up standing on a table declaiming poetry. Catching his frown before it formed, he turned it into a vaguely encouraging smile which prompted the tycoon in front of him to double-down on the sales pitch.

"…on demand printed replacement parts to minimize downtime…"

Kyoya paid attention just long enough to give a few polite nods. He didn't want to discourage the man, the concept was intriguing and potentially very,  _very_  lucrative. Another thing about the  _nouveau-riche **-**_ their inability to grasp TPO was balanced by the fact that they were awfully good at making money. After a few minutes, he allowed his eyes to stray back to the woman at the center of his thoughts.

Well, why shouldn't he be besotted, who could possibly blame him? It wasn't just that she was beautiful – most of the women here could lay claim to that trait, although none achieved it quite so naturally. Nor was it her considerable intellect, her subversive wit, or even her natural grace and charm that drew him to her, along with so many others.

No, what had people flocking to her like desperate Neolithic hunters seeking the warmth of a fire was something far more important than any of that, the #1 item on the list of why he loved her – her kindness. It was her ability to judge people not by their words, or even their actions, but by the secret, vulnerable parts of themselves they tried to hide from everyone else. She'd been the first person besides Tamaki to look at Kyoya and really see  _him._

And she never understood just how rare that quality was, just how precious it made her.

She'd spent the whole ride in the car fretting about disappointing the Suohs, of somehow embarrassing them, incapable of realizing that she would eventually rule Tokyo society. Not because of her new wealth and position, nor because she would ever become skilled at the game of manipulation, but because her subjects would serve her with unparalleled devotion.

Even now he could see her working her natural charm on that old bat, Yakuta Kunie. The octogenarian matriarch, who controlled Japan's largest discount retailer with one hand and every detail of the lives of her ridiculously extended family with the other, was even smiling! Rumor said the last time she'd looked so much as mildly pleased had been the first year her international sales revenue outstripped domestic. Haruhi hadn't needed to waste a second in worry, she would be just fine.

But, just in case, he had taken precautions.

His gaze slid to the couple who had oh-so-casually joined the group surround her, the ones who took care not to stand so close they appeared to be hovering. Aside from the time to greet guests at the start of the party and to say farewells at the end, Yuzuru and Anne-Sophie couldn't be by Haruhi's side. It would send the wrong impression, make it seem as if they didn't trust a commoner to behave correctly. It was utter nonsense, like so many of society's unwritten dictates were.

The Hitachiins were just one of the carefully chosen cadre he'd recruited to… not guard, that wasn't quite the right word. Or supervise. To… guide. Until now, Haruhi's experience with the upper class had been like that of a sailor on the sea, tricky enough to navigate but allowing her to be oblivious to the sharks swarming beneath. He and Suoh had arranged to make sure nobody used her unfamiliarity with the hidden rocks and shoals, the forgotten deep-sea mines, to either impinge on her good nature or draw her into a war she didn't know was being waged.

Aside from the twins' parents, he'd drafted Mori and his brother, the Shidos, Yasuchika to represent the Haninozukas (his brother having sent his regrets - apparently new babies were exhausting), her boss Saioji, many of her old classmates and Host Club clients, and even a former member of the Zuka Club! All took their assigned turn in a rotation meticulously staggered to appear natural and avoid raising anyone's suspcions. Including Haruhi's.

It was a safeguard, but one she was proving she didn't need. Across the room, Yakuta was gazing fondly at the younger woman, no doubt already calculating how she could arrange a formal marriage interview with one of her bachelor grandsons. Haruhi had just made another powerful ally, although she would remain endearingly oblivious to that.

She hadn't grown up in this world, she didn't know the power players, the frenemies, or the rivals. But the most spectacular thing about her was that she didn't care. Where other people sought to fit in to this world or to master it, she simply came in and made it better. Made  _him_  better.

Damn. He scowled at the direction of his thoughts, hiding it from his conversation partner with a slow sip of his drink. This waiting game he was playing was becoming much harder than he'd anticipated. Like a marathon runner spotting the finish line, every instinct in him shouted to put on a burst of speed now, before all the young idiots in this room stopped looking at the Suoh fortune and realized her true value.

But, that way lie failure. Suoh may preach the value of speed, of acting before time and circumstance could take your opportunities away, but patience and strict adherence to the path he'd laid out had always been Kyoya's strength. The key to every success. He would not deviate from the road he'd chosen, not by one centimeter.

Giving himself a sharp, mental slap, he returned his focus to the multi-billionaire trying to secure his investment. Fortunately, his lapses in attention had been taken as disinterest and the man was already indicating an openness to negotiation. They'd become engrossed in discussing the logistical feasibility of using driver-less trucks as a delivery mechanism when a movement over the older man's shoulder caught Kyoya's eye.

It was furtive, almost  _sidling_ , forming an eddy in the usual ebb and flow that marked these events. It was the type of movement that didn't belong, not here. Not in the midst of people who moved through the world the confidence of those who knew they owned it. It immediately set him on red alert.

Turning his head to get a better look, his jaw hardened when he found the source. He couldn't say he was surprised at the intruder, he and Suoh had even put a contingency plan in place just for this scenario. It was just disappointing that once again human nature had lived down to his expectations. Discretely catching Tachibana's attention, he indicated the interloper. The bodyguard had instructions to intercept and deliver the man to Suoh's study.

"Shibasawa-san," Kyoya interjected into the tycoon's ad-hoc presentation, "Please excuse me, I'm afraid something requires my attention." The host couldn't leave his own party, but both men had agreed Kyoya was more than capable of handling this particular pest on his own. "I'd enjoy continuing our talk later this week, perhaps at my office?"

The man beamed, flushed with the possiblity of success. "I would be delighted, Ootori-san. I'll have my secretary call on Monday."

He really shouldn't look so pleased with himself, Kyoya already knew to the yen just how much the project needed and who else was interested. With that, he would drive a hard bargain. Shibasawa would do well to remember that Kyoya hadn't become Japan's eighth wealthiest man by accident.

Patience. Strictly following a perfect plan. That was  _always_ the way to go.

Shortening the obligatory round of goodbyes to just long enough for politeness, Kyoya headed inside to squash a bug.

* * *

"I helped put together the guest list,  _you_  were not on it."

Kyoya's voice, dripping with icicles longer than those which had formed on her former apartment rooftop each winter, stopped Haruhi in her tracks. She'd been in the midst of a circuitous route from the bathroom all the way over in the East Wing (the furthest one away from the patio that she knew of) back to the party when sounds coming from the study caught her attention.

It wasn't that she hated the party, it was going much better than she'd anticipated. Of course, that might have to do with the fact that she was never left unsupervised. Kyoya wasn't always as clever as he thought he was, she knew he was to blame (or thank) for the familiar faces who seemed to always be at her side. It was textbook Kyoya, both sweet and irritating at the same time.

Hug him or hit him – those always seemed to be the only two options where he was concerned.

The way the Hitachiins shut down that nice Yakuta woman who just wouldn't take 'I'm not interested in an  _Omiai_ ' for an answer inclined her towards the 'hug' option. But the fact he didn't trust her enough to handle herself still had 'hit' as the leading contender.

Even with things going well, though, she'd needed a break. Too much socializing made her feel a little punch-drunk sometimes, as overstimulated as Daiki at an amusement park. The long walk to the East Wing and back had given her the time she needed to settle down and brace herself for the next round.

"I have a right to be here!" The second voice was older, with an annoying whining undertone. It sounded like one belonging to the type of man used to getting his own way through bullying and bluster.

She shouldn't eavesdrop. But, then she was, for better or worse, a member of the family. If someone had gate-crashed, wasn't it her responsibility to take care of it? She put her hand on the doorknob, but the next words rendered her immobile.

"You can't keep me from her," the stranger shouted, "She's my niece!"

She turned, shoulders drooping back against the wall beside the door. There was only one person that could be, and she had no interest in talking to him.

She'd given in to curiosity, just once, shortly after Daiki was born. Typing her mother's family name in an internet search engine had yielded what she had wanted to know.

Fujioka Kotoko, formerly Inukai Kotoko, had very little living family remaining. Her parents had died in a car accident when she and her brother were eight and ten respectively. The Inukai family wouldn't be considered wealthy by Ouran standards, barely upper middle-class. They owned no major companies but had a long history of political and judicial activism. The wealth to send Haruhi's mother to Lobelia Girls' Academy had come from the maternal grandparents who raised the two orphans.

Maternal grandparents who had cut-off her mother for not marrying someone  _they_  deemed acceptable.

She'd checked, just to make sure she wasn't misjudging anyone - all of Kotoko's grandparents, Haruhi's great-grandparents, had died before Haruhi had gone to Ouran. There had been no impediment to this man (she wouldn't dignify their relationship by calling him 'uncle') contacting her long before there might be money in it.

"You lost the right to call Kotoko-san's daughter family when your grandfather died and you made no move to contact them." Kyoya's accusation echoed her sentiments exactly. "Not then, not when Ryouji-san passed, not even when she came back to Tokyo six months ago."

"That… that couldn't be helped!" Haruhi could almost hear the man's face turning red, undoubtedly due to anger and not the shame it should be. "And  _you_ have no right to intervene in a family matter," he snarled, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Her friend." If Kyoya's tone got any colder it would freeze oxygen. She had never heard him this angry before. That it was on her behalf caused a funny, fluttering sensation in her chest. "One who cares a hell of a lot more about her than you or your family ever has." The fluttering feeling intensified until it felt like her heart had sprouted wings and was in danger of flying off.

"You… you…"

"You have two choices here, Inukai." Kyoya didn't use an honorific, turning the surname into an insult. "You can continue to incoherently splutter on about 'rights' and I will have my family's private security force escort you off the property and to a very uncomfortable cell in an undisclosed location…"

The incoherent spluttering stopped.

"…Or," Kyoya's voice turned low and lethal, "You may leave quietly without creating a scene. If so, I will pass your contact information on to Ms. Suoh. If she wishes to meet with you, it will be on  _her_  terms – not yours."

There was a moment of silence, then a querulous whinge. "How do I know you'll give it to her."

"You have no other choice." At this point, Haruhi knew Kyoya would be pushing up his glasses and giving the evil glare which cowed everyone.

Inukai put up a protest, but it was half-hearted at best. He was going to do what Kyoya wanted. Didn't most people?

Smiling to herself, she walked away from the door, turning down a side hallway to avoid encountering her unwanted 'family' as he was escorted out. Kyoya would give her the man's card, probably along with a detailed list of options on where and how to meet with him if she chose. He was a manipulative, sneaky bastard but he wouldn't hide something this important from her.

It was funny, considering her first impression of him, just how much she'd come to trust him. Maybe it was because she knew him so much better now, saw through all the masks he wore. Past the genial third-Ootori son, the ruthless business man, the cool and collected 'host,' even the devious 'Shadow King' - all the way down to the man who would fight any battle, wage any war, to protect those he cared about. Who shielded his friends so fiercely because, even after all this time, the unhappy child he'd once been didn't quite believe he deserved them.

Oh, gods - how she wanted to be the one to protect that part of him.

 _Mother and father in heaven!_ Haruhi staggered against the wall, clutching her abdomen with one hand and propping herself up with the other. She knew this feeling. Knew exactly what it was.

Because she'd felt it before.

"I love him," she whispered softly, disbelievingly, her breath coming out on shuddering gasps. "I love him," she muttered again with a tiny laugh, feeling the smile beginning to bloom on her face. "I love Kyoya!?" She lifted her hand from her stomach to cover the grin she couldn't suppress, hugging the revelation to herself like a delicious, wonderful secret.

Still beaming like an idiot, she pushed away from the wall and straightened her shoulders. All her fears about being destined to be a widow seemed so foolish now. All along, the answer had been right under her nose! Kyoya had been the one person she turned to, the one she trusted, the one she depended on. And he was the one she wanted to depend on, and turn to, and trust  _her_ in return.

Falling in love with her son's, father's, best friend. It was a stupidly romantic idea – like one of Maria's stories, or something out of Tamaki's fevered imaginings. Her brow furrowed. Of course, that was only if he loved her back. She knew he was fond of her, knew he felt obligated to look out for her and Daiki, but did he feel, could he feel something more?

The fluttering dropped from her chest all the way down to her stomach. This was the hard part, wasn't it? Screwing up your courage to confess without knowing the outcome. She'd felt  _this_ feeling before too. Then a second revelation hit her like a sheet of ice and she slumped back against the wall.

She couldn't tell him.

Two weeks ago, she could have, even if there would be no point to it. But not now. Whatever mental checklist Kyoya had for the perfect Ootori wife, 'in love with her' wouldn't be anywhere on it. But rich heiress from a prominent family?

Check, check, and check.

Add in 'good friend,' 'enjoys company of,' and 'mother of my dead-best-friend's son' and there was no way he  _wouldn't_  marry her.

Oh, he might mouth the words she would want to hear, he might even believe them having never known the alternative. But  _she_  did. She knew what it was like to love with her whole heart and be loved in return. And, as Honey had said, she owed it not just to Tamaki's memory but to herself to have that again. She deserved better than a marriage based on friendship and obligation.

So did Kyoya.

She couldn't confess, all she could do was love him. And love, real love, meant wanting what was best for the other person even if it didn't lead to the outcome you wished for. For Kyoya's sake, for Tamaki's sake, and, most importantly, for  _her_ sake she was going to make damn sure Kyoya got the happiness he deserved, even if she had to take on Ootori Yoshio himself.

Screw his plans and his checklists, Ootori Kyoya was not going to marry anyone who didn't love him as much as she did. And who he would love just as much in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, gosh – it's been awhile hasn't it? My plans to get this done before the two year anniversary proved the axiom about the best-laid-plans and all that. I can blame both work and that dance competition season started up in earnest in March, but the real reason was a horrible case of writer's block
> 
> You other writers – does this happen to you? I had about 1500 words on paper for almost two months and just could not bring myself to finish the chapter. I kept avoiding even reviewing it. Finally, I scraped the whole thing except for the plotline and had over 4K words written in the next three days. Sometimes, I think writer's block is just the subconscious' way of telling you that something isn't ringing true.
> 
> Thanks to all the people who have stuck with this despite how long it took to update, to all those who have left kudos or a comment and to everyone who reminded me they were waiting for the next chapter which kept me forcing myself to continue. This fandom is amazing!


	29. Lost

Rain slashed sideways against the window, pounding a furious staccato that echoed the beating of Haruhi's heart. Pressing her palm against the glass locking out the storm, she warily searched the clouds above. Outside, waves formed jagged peaks topped with foam all the way to the horizon. Closer in to shore, they crashed against the promontory, sending sheets of water up and over the head of the Beelzenef-shaped rock, it's pale color gleaming macabrely against the slate gray sky.

"Hiding out?"

Haruhi jumped back from the window guiltily and turned, peering through the foliage towards the speaker she knew would be in the doorway. The mid-October sun didn't hang around long, even down here in Okinawa. She'd left the lights off and the storm bathed the alledged 'sun room' in a deep gloom, casting ominous shadows through the leaves of the plants filling every available space, giving the interior jungle a vaguely predatory feel.

Nekozawa's villa was no less creepy than she remembered.

Kyoya strode towards her, effortlessly weaving through the probably carnivorous botany without getting a single speck of dirt on his suit. Unsurprising.  _He_  could most likely hike through the Amazon and still emerge as crisp and spotless as if he'd just gotten dressed. She, on the other hand, had to change out of the dress she'd worn to this afternoon's ceremony, which was sticking to her back like a wet mop from the pre-storm humidity, into jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt the minute they got back.

The room was cavernous, but his long legs brought him to her side in mere seconds. Her heart rate doubled, racing now from more than the possibility of thunder. He drew in close, stopping mere centimeters away. It was close enough for his warmth to dissipate some of the chill of the room. Close enough for his cologne, a bitter, citrusy scent that reminded her of Earl Grey tea, to mingle with the pungent, earthy aroma of growing plants and form an intoxicating perfume. Close enough to make the diffuse lighting seem intimate. Inviting. And dangerous to her composure.

Kyoya looked down, one eyebrow quirked in inquiry. Oh, right, he'd asked her a question. Twisting her hands in the hem of her shirt, she gave a sheepish grin. "Not really. I mean, everyone here has been nice. Very solicitous."

Too much so. Nekozawa's entourage was servile to the point of exasperating. Every time she turned around there was someone asking if they could get 'The Master's honored guest' something, all of them staring at her like a pack of forlorn puppies dressed for Halloween. Their eager, earnest expressions made her feel so guilty she forced herself to come up with something,  _anything,_ that they could do. "It's just…" she trailed off, shooting a glance at the roiling clouds.

"I checked seven different weather reports." Kyoya, god help her, stepped nearer, intensifying the heady fragrance of rainforest and masculinity wafting around her. Haruhi forced her breath to remain even, to not give in to the temptation to inhale it like incense. "Not a single prediction for thunder and lighting in any of them." He gave the little half-smile that meant he was teasing. "But, just in case, I placed noise canceling headphones in your room. And," he held up a hand peremptorily, "before you protest that you can't because you might be needed - Kirimi-chan and Daiki-kun are currently binge-watching the entire series of  _Cardcaptor Sakura._ I verified that it is entirely suitable for a child his age, unlike everything else in her video library. He'll be happily occupied for hours and, if not, I'm certain his needs will be taken care of by one of the… ' _Acolytes_.'"

She snickered at the shudder he gave on that last word. "Sorry, it's just…" Her eyes rolled, practically of their own volition. "Acolytes! I can't believe Nekozawa-sempai has  _Acolytes."_

"Now that he can live his life so that he sleeps all day and only goes out at night, his obsession with 'The Darkness,' and his resemblance to a character from an Anne Rice novel, have given him somewhat of a following among a certain sector." Kyoya composed his features into a portrait of mock-solemnity. "I have been assured, quite strenuously, that it is Not. A. Cult."

Haruhi couldn't help it – the whole thing was too surreal. Dissolving into giggles, she had to wipe away a small tear from the corner of her eye before she could sober.

"Ah, that's better," Kyoya stated, a bit smugly, pleased he'd lightened her mood. With a flourish, he held his arm out to her in a move straight out of the Host Club. "Now, if I've set your concerns about the storm to rest, shall we rejoin our host?"

"Ano…" She hesitated, wrinkling her nose. "To be honest, the storm was only partly why I was in here." She jerked her head to the window, towards the landmark cat-rock, now barely visible as twilight fell. "This place holds a lot of memories for me. I just wanted a little peace and quiet to dwell on them."

"I see." He turned his head slightly, pushing up his glasses and shielding his eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude. I'll leave you to it then."

"It's okay, you don't have to go." She held out one hand to stop him. "Don't get me wrong, they aren't  _sad_  memories, I don't mind sharing them." Turning to look outside, she let nostalgia envelop her. "For a long time, it was only just Dad and me. I knew he couldn't take care of the both of us all on his own. I always tried to be independent, to rely on myself as much as I could, so I wouldn't be a burden. Wouldn't make him feel like a bad parent because he didn't have the time or money to coddle me."

She sensed more than saw him draw up next to her, a silent encouragement to continue.

"I probably took that too far, sometimes." Kyoya politely refrained from making more than a muffled snort at that understatement. "Until Okinawa, until  _that_  day, nobody had ever called me on it. It was a… shock to realize I'd worried everyone. Even  _Honey-sempai_  scolded me!" All these years later, the warmth of that moment still had the power to make her smile. "I still don't agree that I shouldn't have intervened, shouldn't have stood-up to those bullies, but… It was the first time I realized that even though I  _could_  be self-sufficient, I didn't always have to be. It was the first time I started to think of you guys as friends and not just…"

"Annoying pests?"

"No!" But her polite denial dissolved in the face of his rampant skepticism. "Maybe. Certainly troublesome, at any rate."

"I'm glad you have good memories here." Kyoya's eyes darkened, taking on the color of the sky outside. "As for me, mostly I remember acting unforgivably towards you."

Her brow crinkled, what was he going on about? When it hit her, she waived her hand vigorously in refute. "Oh,  _that,_  it was noth…"

"Haruhi," he snapped, "I threatened to rape you! There are some lines that nothing justifies crossing."

"It's okay," she reassured, "I understood. You were just trying to make me see Tamaki's side."

"No." He rejected that with one curt shake of his head. "That's what you concluded, and what I let you believe. At the time, I'm not even sure if  _I_  understood why I reacted that way. It's no excuse, but… back then I didn't have very many people in my life who I genuinely liked." He gave a self-deprecating huff. "I still don't.

"That day was the first time in my life where I was faced with the possibility of something bad happening to one of them that I was unable to prevent. That there were some things utterly outside of my control. At sixteen, I didn't know how to handle the sense of… helplessness I felt. And I didn't do it very well." A faint pink tinged his cheeks and he sketched a half-bow. "It's a decade too late, but please forgive me."

Really, he got hung up on the weirdest things sometimes. She remembered the entire incident differently – she always thought of it as the first time his 'cool' façade had cracked enough for something  _real_  to seep through. The first time she'd realized the cynical, sarcastic exterior was just a hard shell built to protect a surprisingly squishy middle. Like a shellfish.

"Seriously, it didn't bother me – then or now." His expression didn't ease one bit. "But," she sighed, resigned to say the words he obviously needed to hear, "If it means that much to you, then consider yourself forgiven."

Accepting with a quick nod, he removed his glasses and made a show of cleaning them, covering up his discomfort with activity. "Thank you." Was it wrong to feel a little thrill of satisfaction whenever she managed to fluster him? Probably. But an awkward Kyoya was pretty damn cute.

"To be honest, I'd practically forgotten the whole thing." Although, now that she'd been reminded, it all came flooding back. This time she was older, and a hell of a lot more experienced in some areas. The thought of Kyoya hovering over her… a water-drop slowly sliding off his chiseled collarbone, down sculpted pectorals, heading towards those intriguing notches at his hip which disappeared into his waistband… a predatory gleam in his eye that didn't frighten her in the least… his face drawing ever nearer…

Wow, it was getting hot in here!

And dark.

And very much like the night which, from here on out, she knew would wind-up as the springboard for certain... private thoughts.

Needing to put some distance between them before she did something stupid, like tackle him to the ground in a reversal of the event he'd just apologized for, Haruhi took a step back and turned away – resolutely staring out as the last vestiges of fading light turned the sky the same color as the sea.

"The ceremony today was nice, wasn't it?" Her voice sounded unnaturally bright to her ears. "Very… liturgical. And weird. Sort of… dark and creepy, actually. I'm kind of surprised Honey-sempai went along with it."

There was a minute delay, then Kyoya took his own step away and allowed the topic to change. "I believe it was a compromise – she allowed him to have a curse-free baby naming ceremony for Maiko-chan, he allowed her to dedicate their daughter to the service of the Dark Gods worshiped by Nekozawa-sempai's ancestors. They're an eccentric couple, but somehow it works."

"Must be nice," Haruhi said a little wistfully, "A marriage like that, I mean. Two people, compromising for the other's sake, each working towards the other's happiness." Her words caught up with her ears and she almost switched subjects again. But, what the heck? It was a ham-fisted segue, but if she wanted to start laying the groundwork, encourage Kyoya to consider his own happiness, then she might as well begin now. "I think that's the kind everyone should strive for, don't you?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw him still. Damn, had she gone to far? What had made her think she could pull this sort of thing off? She'd never been good at being indirect, what made her think she could manipulate a grandmaster like Kyoya? "Sorry," she scrabbled to divert any suspicion away from her intentions, "I guess I was thinking outlou…"

"Marry me."

She pivoted so fast she stumbled, barely recovering before her ankle twisted out from under her. Hope formed a tight knot in her throat. She couldn't swallow. Couldn't even breathe.

And then, she looked at him.

He wouldn't meet her eyes, just kept his fixed on a point just to the right of her shoulder. Her heart plummeted down to her stomach and straight through to the floor. He didn't mean it. Not the way she wanted him to. Recovering her powers of speech, she waited until he turned his head. So she could see his face as she asked the only question that mattered. "Why?"

* * *

Fuck.

Fuck!

FUCK!

What was he doing? He had a plan! A meticulously thought-out perfect plan! Now, here he was barely two weeks into phase 4 and, in one impulsive, unguarded second, he'd gone and jumped all the way to phase 7! What was he thinking?

He should have stayed away from her. All day he'd been… out-of-sorts. Restless. Maybe it had been the joy and contentment radiating from his  _sempai_  and their chosen brides. Maybe it was this place, where he'd first begun to care for Haruhi for her own sake and not for that of his friend. Whatever the cause, it had his skin feeling as stretched and tight as an off-the-rack suit.

But, how could he leave her alone? Especially with a storm rolling in. He'd had to satisfy himself she was all right and not huddling in a wardrobe somewhere. Had to reassure her that she could depend on him, that it was safe to let herself be weak.

Maybe if he'd left their discussion at that point, his campaign to court her would still be on-track. But, no, he'd had to go and let her pull him back in time. Let himself be confronted with the memory of something he had never forgotten, never forgiven himself for. Something that, despite the shame he felt, had never lost it's pull. Had never stopped feeling like a missed beginning. A road not taken.

And then there was the final straw, the thing that broke him. Watching her stand there at the window, staring out at the source of her fears. That sad little smile. The loneliness in her eyes. All he could think was that he wanted to erase that expression from her face. That he needed to pull her into his arms, into that spot which had been made just for her – nestled right up against his heart.

He hadn't even realized he'd spoken until she jerked around in surprise. But, now that it was out there, he couldn't take it back. If for one instant she thought he was joking, that he was being even the tiniest bit facetious, she would just laugh it off with her customary denseness. Place him in the same platonic box she'd once put Kasanoda and the twins, where nothing they could say would convince her of their seriousness.

"Why?"

The question hung in the air like a bomb about to explode. A tiny, reckless part of him wanted to blurt it all out, but he held back. Tamped down on it with the weight of every bit of caution and self-control he had. The truth of how much he loved her, of how long he'd loved her, was the one thing he couldn't' say. She could never know, never suspect, the full depth of his betrayal. Realize just how reprehensible he was.

"I… like you." Ignoring her faint gasp of shock, he pushed his glasses up and pushed ahead to make his case. "The last few months have reminded me just how much I value your friendship and enjoy your company. I don't think I'm wrong in believing you feel the same way towards me."

Haruhi's mouth slammed shut, her breathing deepened. The daylight which had given a dim illumination to the room finally died, casting her eyes in shadows too deep to penetrate.

"Our temperaments complement each other nicely. Plus, as a husband I would be of benefit to you – I am well-suited to taking on some of the more annoying duties that will be foisted on you as heir, allowing you to focus on your law career." He didn't need to see her face to know he was failing. In a last, desperate scramble to offer a reason, any reason that was less anemic. One that she might be willing to consider, he echoed her previous statement back to her, "I would… I would always work towards your and Daiki's happiness."

It was as much truth as he could give her.

There was just enough brightness to make out her head bobbing up and down, and for a brief, glorious moment he felt a surge of hope. Then she took one single step back and the last of the light unshielded her gaze. There was no trace of her usual compassion. No gentle regret or empathic apology. Instead, it held only sadness. A weary resignation underlining how much pain his spiritless proposal had caused her. How much he had destroyed any amount of esteem she'd held him in.

"Kyoya, I appreciate the offer." Haruhi's lips twisted up in what would have been a soft smile if it weren't for the dullness in her eyes. "But, I don't think the two of us would be happy together. I think we're better off remaining friends, don't you?"

"Yes, of course." He forced the words past the lump forming in his throat. "I'm sorry if my suggestion made you uncomfortable."

"Don't be. With our families there would always be some pressure to form an alliance neither of us wants. It's probably a good thing that we got this out of the way now." Looking away, she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I think I'm more tired from today than I thought, I'm going to go to bed early. Goodnight."

Somehow, he managed to resist the impulse to throw himself at her feet and beg her to reconsider. Managed to keep himself together long enough to say goodnight and watch her disappear out the door. Taking his future with her.

* * *

Without lifting his head from where it had landed last night, buried it face down in the pillow, Kyoya reached over, grabbed the buzzing alarm clock, and flung it against the wall.

The damn thing kept on chirping at him like a demented sparrow.

Pushing himself upright with a groan, he fumbled on the night stand for his glasses with one hand while rubbing at his aching head with the other. Once his vision was no longer blurry, he peered at the demon electronic still annoyingly trying to get him to rise.

10:01. Too damn early.

Not usually, not anymore. Through sheer force of will he'd trained himself to be up at the gods-forsaken hour of 6 a.m. most days. Not today. Too many late-night recriminations, and an half-a-bottle of Macallan that was older than him, had made waking any earlier impossible.

Seizing the pillow behind him, he hurtled it at the infernal noise-maker brightly insisting he start his day. It landed against the alarm with a satisfying 'thud,' finally shutting the wretched thing up. With another groan at the pounding any movement made in his temples (gods, now he remembered why he didn't get drunk), he sprawled back against the bed, laced his fingers behind his head, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

He couldn't have screwed up his proposal any worse if he'd planned it – and oh, he was too aware of every ounce of irony in that sentence. He'd known Haruhi wasn't the type to marry merely for friendship, if she was then she'd still be dating that moron, Hikaru. With every ill-spoken word coming out of his mouth, he had felt her pull away from him further.

The worst of it was, he wouldn't get a second chance. Nothing he could do or say in the future would convince her he felt anything more for her than those anemic sentiments he'd expressed last night. That marrying her was not somehow to his benefit in a plebian, shallow way.

In all his strategizing, he'd never once considered what he would do if he failed. He was Ootori Kyoya, failure didn't happen to him. Setbacks, yes, and the occasional unexpected obstacle, but not failure. Not  _losing._

Of course, he'd also never imagined he would ever fuck-up one of his plans in such an abject, colossal way.

And then, there had been her reaction. Pity he could have handled, or even anger, but not that crushing sense that he had let her down. Disappointed her expectations of him. Lost her respect. The weight of it bore down on his chest until he almost couldn't breathe. Now he was faced with a worse prospect than living his life alone with just Noel for company - because all along he had known that Haruhi was it for him, the only woman he would ever marry - he may have lost her friendship entirely.

Forcing himself back to sitting, he ignored the pain stabbing behind his eyes. Enough of this - Ootoris didn't mope, didn't sit around whining about things they couldn't change, they acted. They looked ahead and formed a plan to take them towards their goal. First things first, he needed to clean himself up and find her, come up with some excuse for what he said last night she might believe. Do whatever he could to smooth things over and rescue what he could of their relationship.

He flopped back down again. He need just another minute.

Maybe two.

Five at the absolute most.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Ootori-sama." The raven-haired young woman, clad in the red robe marking her as one of Nekozawa's followers, started tearing up with disappointment over not being able to fulfill Kyoya's request. "Suoh-sama left to return back to Tokyo first thing this morning. I… I could call the charter company, see if they can radio the piolot…"

"No, that won't be necessary," he replied cordially. Her sincerity was so pure it was exhausting. Nope, absolutely nothing cult-like about that at all. "Thank you for your assistance."

She bowed deeply, pressing her palms together in obsequious. "Of course, anything for the Master's treasured guests." Gliding away as silent as a ghost, she exited the front parlor, leaving Kyoya alone.

Piercing cold lanced through him, chasing away the last of his headache. It was worse than he feared, he'd alienated her to the point she felt she had to run. The memory of her eyes haunted him, embracing him in a shapeless dread. He'd never been much of a religious man, he knew the gods would likely mock his hypocrisy. Still he offered up a fervent, sincere prayer to whoever might be listening under his breath. Begging for their help. Pleading they would show him how to fix this.

Staring blankly out the window at a now becalmed sea, he strained to hear any answer they might give him.

"Morning, Kyo-chan!" Honey bounded into the room, as sunny and energetic as that hellish alarm clock. Kyoya had been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn't heard the doorbell. With a final look at the endless, answerless waves, he turned to greet his friends with a pasted-on smile.

"Hn," nodded Mori cordially in greeting, strolling behind his cousin at a more sedate pace.

"We came to pick you and Haru-chan up for lunch," Honey bubbled, "Rei-chan and Hana-chan are in town doing some shopping and texted that they found the cutest café that serves purple yam and chocolate-passion fruit ice cream. Aren't those great ideas for cakes? Maybe we could do 'regions of Japan' themed cakes for a limited promo offer. Maybe in the summer - the tourists would love it!"

"That is an interesting idea, Honey," Kyoa replied, in a tone too flat to match the sentiment. "But, I'm afraid Haruhi needed to return home earlier than planned." Unable to meet eyes that would see too much, Kyoya made a show of adjusting the sleeves on the black turtleneck he'd randomly pulled out of his closet this morning. "Please forgive me if I don't join you. I had a late breakfast." Lie. He hadn't eaten a bite.

"Haru-chan left without telling us?" Honey leapt forward, concern radiating from every pore. "Is everything okay at home? Oh!" Chocolate eyes grew as big as tea plates with distress. "Did being back here make her too sad? Maybe I should have convinced Rei-chan to have the ceremony somewhere else." He gripped Kyoya's arm insistently. "Kyo-chan, we should go after her. I'll let her hold Mai-chan, she's even nicer to cuddle with than Usa-chan when you want to feel better."

"No!" Kyoya spoke more sharply than he intended, immediately feeling guilty at the hurt that crossed the blonde moppet's face. "I mean… I'm sure she would appreciate having some time to herself for a while."

Honey released his grasp and went completely still, eyes narrowing sharply. "Why?" he asked, low and quiet, "Tell me what happened, Kyoya."

There was no point in trying to dissemble. Even if Haruhi said nothing, these two understood human nature too well not to guess. They always had. As much as he valued their friendship, sometimes it was a curse. "I suppose she thought to spare my feelings this morning." Kyoya adjusted his glasses in a futile attempt to shield himself from their prying gaze. "I confessed to her last night and she rejected me."

If anything, his cherubic  _sempai_  grew even stiller, the aura around him subtly thickening until it was as oppressive as last night's storm. "Did you, really?" Honey's voice grew as silken as the blade of a knife. "Did you confess properly _?_  Did you tell her the truth about how you feel? The  _whole_  truth?"

Kyoya's heart thudded against his chest, throbbed in his ears. Of course. Of course these two knew the shame he had tried so hard to hide from everyone. "I can't," he said so softly it was practically a whisper. "It would hurt her too much to hear it."

And she would hate him.

"I see." Honey shifted, subtly putting a space between them that gaped like a chasm. With ancient eyes, he studied  _kohai_  intently. Scrutinizing him like a surgeon deciding where to cut. Kyoya fought the urge to shift his weight from side-to-side as if he were an errant child. His friend's silence was so deep it was nearly unbearable. For once,  _he_  was the one tempted to break it.

Finally, just at the point Kyoya was sure he would snap, Honey dropped his shoulders back and lengthened his spine. "All this time we've known each other, Ootori-san." All trace of the sweet  _loli-shota_ vanished beneath a countenance as cold and pitiless as one of his  _samurai_  ancestors. "And never once did I realize you were a coward."

The word came at him so unexpectedly, and with such force, Kyoya nearly rocked back on his heels. Instinctively, he cast a pleading glance at the silent giant hovering in the doorway, but the lack of a reproving 'Mitskuni' told Kyoya all he needed to know. Mori shared in his cousin's condemnation.

"C'mon Takashi, it's time for us to go." Honey pivoted sharply on his heel and strode out the door without a backward glance.

Mori lingered a moment longer. "You should tell her, Kyoya." His was kinder, but no less unyielding. No less free of disapproval. "If you can't risk showing someone the parts of yourself you're most ashamed of, then it isn't love." And then he too was gone.

Coward.

The word reverberated through the empty room, rang in his ears so loud he felt his balance waver Disoriented, he clutched the back of the settee and dragged gulps of air into his lungs as the truth crashed into him, threatening to drown him. For all his sweetness, Honey's blood ran with generations of warriors. When he landed a strike, it was accurate, precise, and strategically placed to have the most impact. In one instant, everything Kyoya had held true about himself twisted, forming a new, more accurate picture. One that didn't flatter.

He was a coward.

Oh, not that anyone else would accuse him of it. But they only saw the businessman, the chess master. Only he knew that never, not once in his life, had he allowed himself to be in a position where anything of real value was at stake. Every risky venture he'd undertaken, every bold move, had been nothing more than a carefully devised Dutch book. A series of strategies constructed to ensure that, in all possible outcomes, he benefited far more than he could possibly lose. Because money and influence were cheap, easy to play with. Trivial to gamble with because it wouldn't hurt for him to lose. The things that were  _truly_  important he was careful to never put on the line – his friendships, his family's legacy and, most of all, the dark, hidden parts of himself that couldn't bear the light.

And most of the time, that was a good thing. He'd set his priorities a long time ago, guarded fiercely the things that mattered to him. But, those things had never come in conflict with each other. Had never been the price for gaining something even greater. And when faced with that very situation, he'd let fear drive his path.

Selfishly, he had wanted it all, and on his own terms. He'd mapped out a clever stratagem to win Haruhi's love - to gain all of her warmth, and light, and kindness - without having to offer anything more in return than his care and protection. Without letting her do more than glimpse beneath his shields. Without giving up any of his true self.

Mori was right - that wouldn't be love. It would be possession.

How arrogant of him! And how presumptions. He had always known he wasn't worthy of her, his intentions towards her too self-serving, but all his little self-justifications had kept him on his path. It would be best for her, for everyone, if he stepped aside. For good this time. He could let time and distance turn them into mere acquaintances. He would accept the reality of the situation and marry the least objectionable of his father's suggestions. Settle into a dispassionate, lifeless marriage based on mutual benefit. It was nothing less than what deserved.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd then be able to find a way to not live in regret for something he never should have had the temerity to reach for in the first place.

Kyoya felt life and energy drain out of his body as he resolved himself to let his selfish dreams of Haruhi go. Despair numbed him, bestowing a strange type of peace. He'd felt that before, the bone-deep weariness of knowing some things just couldn't be helped. That some things were simply destined not to be, no matter how much you wished otherwise. That fate had issued its decree.

Out of nowhere, the memory of violet-blue eyes, peering up at him, piercing into his soul assailed him. Accusing words flung a challenge at him across a dozen years and fifteen hundred kilometers.

" _Who actually forbids you?" The boy he had envied from the depths of his soul, whose very personality and attitude made a mockery of everything Kyoya believed, didn't back down one bit. Not even with Kyoya's hands perilously close to wrapping around the idiot's neck in rage. Instead, lying on the ground, completely at a disadvantage, he had the audacity to dare Kyoya to seize control of his own destiny. "_ You _are the one who isn't putting in enough effort._ You _are the one giving up without a fight."_

Slowly, wonderingly, Kyoya released his death grip on the sofa, pushing himself upright. The words that had once burrowed into the heart of a lonely, unhappy boy held no less impact on the unhappy, lonely man. They wrapped around him, chasing away the frigid hopelessness and shame he'd encased himself in, igniting a fire within his soul that pointed the way. Pointed the path toward being a better person than he'd thought he was capable of being.

He had prayed for guidance and, despite all his expectations, it had come. For the first time In six years, he could feel the comforting warmth of a friendship he'd thought lost forever. And, along with it, a feeling that had been gone for so long he had stopped noticing it's absence – hope. With a brief, heart-felt 'thank you' to the friend who'd once again set him on the right course, he headed towards the door, already pulling out his phone to arrange for a flight home.

Destiny could be overturned. Fate could be defied. He had done both before. Then, it had required the strength to craft his future with his own hands. Now, it demanded something infinitely harder – putting that future in the hands of another. With no plans. No schemes. No expectation of any given outcome. It was time to do the one thing he had never done before, risk himself, his real self, on one reckless roll of the dice.

It was time to finally tell Haruhi the truth.

All of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a very, very evil writer. I simply love bringing Kyoya to his knees. He is always so shielded – even when he allows people to peer underneath his guard, he still never really confirms what they suspect. I couldn't control the urge to strip all of that away and make him realize that the only way he could be with Haruhi is to actually open up to her. Besides, he's had things too much his own way for most of this story, no way could I let that continue *evil grin*.
> 
> I worried that I wrote Honey too harsh, I know he hates being mean. I also think he's smart enough about people to know that sometimes the kindest thing you can do is make them confront the the thing that is holding them back. I'm sure he cried about it in the car to Mori afterwards.
> 
> This ended up being the penultimate chapter instead of the final after all. The last section made too nice a chapter end for me not to split things. The good news is I have the rough draft of the real final chapter completed and hope I can get it refined and uploaded within the week.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who kudo'd or left a comment. I'll try to respond to them soon.


	30. Found

"Welcome back, Ootori-sama."

Tachibana accepted Kyoya's luggage from the flight attendant and accompanied his employer towards the waiting limo. The sun had set hours ago, not even an Ootori could summon a private plane down to Okinawa at a minute's notice, nor could he defy the laws of physics and make the trip any shorter. Kyoya looked at his watch as he had been doing obsessively throughout the flight, but time stubbornly refused to flow backwards for his sake.

"Home sir?" Tachibana asked, holding open the door to the backseat.

Kyoya looked back at his watch, considering. Haruhi wasn't much of a night owl, she'd be sure to be heading to bed soon. And the first stop on his itinerary  _was_  closed (not that he couldn't change that with a phone call). The safe bet was to wait for the morning.

He was done with making safe bets.

"Did you get what I requested?"

The bodyguard nodded curtly. "Yes sir. Fifteen white roses, thorns removed and a bouquet of two-dozen stargazer lilies."

Tachibana was too well-trained by his uncle to ask the reason behind Kyoya's specific demands. But, if he was going to lay bare his soul for the first time in his life, then he was damn well going to do it right. And Haruhi wasn't the only person he needed to set things straight with. One of them would appreciate the showy, bright flowers more than plain, traditional white chrysanthemums. And as for the other? Well, fifteen was the traditional number of roses when asking for forgiveness.

"Good." Kyoya leveraged himself into the car. "Then take me to the cemetery."

* * *

Haruhi sighed, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. Her bedtime had come and gone hours ago, but sleep remained elusive no matter how tired her body. Too much turmoil in her brain, thoughts running around like a hamster on a wheel, made finding rest impossible.

She'd tried to study - it had always calmed and centered her before, distracted her from any worries. When her parents died, when she discovered she was pregnant, when the bills piled up and there simply weren't enough hours in the day – losing herself in facts and data had brought order to the chaos.

But not this time.

Damn Kyoya! Why did he have to make that insipid proposal? Not only had he shot down the secret little hope she'd been hiding in a corner of her heart, he'd taken away her 'happy place' as well. Haruhi leaned forward slowly until her head 'thunked' against the desk. The whole thing just made her so… so… frustrated!

And angry.

Not on her own behalf – she knew Kyoya had been paying her a compliment, in a weird, awkward kind of way. If all he'd wanted from marriage was someone who'd please his father, he could have his pick from over a dozen heiresses. So, if he was willing to reach for something more than that, why couldn't he aim even higher? It wasn't like 'unambitious' would ever show up on a list of his character traits! Why, if he could hold out for friendship and companionship, couldn't he require… no, why couldn't he  _demand_  love? Demand happiness for himself in the most important relationship of his life?

She just couldn't find the answer. Every time she tried, her thoughts looped back to the beginning. And each time it did she only got more pissed off. This morning, when staying-up-too-late became getting-up-too-early, she'd known she had to leave. If she stayed, she'd march over to his room and smack some sense into him!

Or, worse, take him up on his offer.

Because that was the one answer she had found last night – rejecting Hikaru by telling herself he deserved love had been easy. They didn't fit together, not the way she knew she and Kyoya would. And being an adult was lonely.

Romance and passion were probably nice in their way, but more and more what she wanted were the little things. Someone to eat dinner with, to share daily triumphs and worries with, to snuggle up next to on the couch at the end of the day and watch TV with. Someone who would listen to her point out all the flaws in the current popular police procedural and outline her strategy for getting criminal off, all with a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth and bemusement in his warm, gray eyes. And, over time, something like that may very well come to feel like love – or at least close enough to it that she could pretend.

And, bit by bit, it would kill her.

The soft chime of the doorbell had her bolting upright in alarm, casting a quick glance at the clock. Who could it be at this time of night? It had to be someone she knew, someone on 'the list.' Yuzuru had insisted her security cameras be monitored 24/7 and they would alert her (and the cops) if anyone else approached.

Ice filled her veins, shutting off her ability to breathe. One other time she'd been surprised by a visitor too late at night. Opened the door to an unexpected guest that had delivered news which had changed her world. Without thought for safety, she flew down the hallway to the door and flung it open, only to rock back on her heels in surprise.

"Kyoya?" Stepping back, she silently invited him inside. What had happened to him? He looked… off. Her eyes raked over him, cataloguing every sign that something wasn't right.

Water beaded on the light tan jacket he was still wearing, instead of holding it politely in his hands. His shirt was untucked and, she had to look twice to confirm the most damning element of all, he had mud on his shoes! Fear gripped her, clawing at her insides, as she took in the circles under his eyes, his haggard expression.  _Mother, Father, Tamaki – please! Please don't anything have happened to anyone. Not to anyone I love._

"Haruhi, sorry for the intrusion." His voice was unnaturally hoarse and her apprehension grew. "I needed to speak to you."

She swallowed hard, sending up her prayer again. "Come…," she stammered, "Come in."

He took one step forward, closing the door behind him. "I…" He tightened his jaw, sliding his eyes away from hers. "I won't come in any farther, not until you've heard what I have to say. If you still wish to talk to me, wish to acknowledge me after that…"

Her breathing slowed as it dawned on her he was acting too strange for him to be the bearer of tragic news. And, then, her heart sped up. This… whatever this was… was something deeply personal to him. Something that had made the unflappable Shadow King lose his composure.

"Okay," she nodded, "Say whatever it is you have to say. I'll listen."

* * *

After the cemetery, after a long time actually conversing with his best friend instead of merely going through the motions, Kyoya hadn't yet been able to summon the mental fortitude to come here. Tachibana had driven him aimlessly around the city until he'd had enough of company and exited the car, walking the streets of Haruhi's neighborhood in the rain, rehearsing what he'd say to her the whole time. Now, though, the words disappeared like smoke. Where to begin? How could he even try to explain everything he'd hidden for so long?

In his head, a pair of violet-blue eyes sparked with laughter.  _'Where does every great love story start, mon ami? You begin at the beginning!'_

And so, he did.

"From the instant you opened the music room door, I found you interesting." Calm washed over him as the words he'd dammed up inside for years flowed out. "Not because you were a commoner – you weren't the first scholarship student at Ouran and I doubted you'd last any longer than the others, but because you defied all my expectations about you. You didn't have the hardness of those who sought power, nor did your appearance suggest someone looking to marry for wealth. You were a… puzzle. One I didn't want to let go of until I'd solved." He felt a smile ghost across his lips. "And, I admit, it  _was_  amusing to watch Tamaki and the twins tie themselves in knots trying to get your attention.

"As I got to know you, I began to value you for your own sake. Your intellect, your character, your innate kindness leavened with a healthy dose of practicality - it was... different. Refreshing. Made me feel just the tiniest bit less jaded. And by the school festival, I regarded you as both a friend and a protégée." Lifting his head, their eyes locked. "Even now, I can't pinpoint exactly when I started to love you."

Her mouth parted in a small gasp, but he ignored it and barreled on. "Maybe it started that night in Okinawa. Or the day at the commoner's market when you saw through the self-serving front I put on. Perhaps it was at a less self-centered time, just something that happened bit-by-bit as I realized how lucky I was to be in your orbit. To be one of the people you cared for.

"I know I loved you before we left for Boston. But, by then, it was clear that Tamaki loved you, and that you loved him. I had no desire to play Lancelot to his King Arthur, even if I could, and resolved to put my feelings aside. I was so sure I had found something greater in his friendship, something too precious to risk losing." He barked a short, humorless laugh. "God, I was such an idiot at seventeen. So naïve! My feelings for you only grew that whole year in Boston until, by the end, it was unbearable.

"Harvard was a great opportunity, but that wasn't the real reason I stayed behind. I hoped, I  _needed_ , for distance to soften the way I felt. I could no longer look at the two of you together and wish for your happiness, not without feeling a bitterness gnawing at my soul. Not without being consumed with jealousy for my best friend. And then… then the day came when a phone call shattered my world."

Gulping past a solid lump blocking his throat, he dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn't think he could bear the expression the next part of his confession would put on her face. "Almost my very first thought was 'now Haruhi is free. I don't have to step aside any longer.'

"Gods, what kind of man does that make me?" Bitterness formed a tight ball of self-hate in his chest. "What kind of man  _rejoices_  in the death of the friend he loved best in the world. How the hell can you even bear to be in the same room with me?"

"Kyoya…"

"No," he held up a hand to stop her. "Please, let me finish. If I don't get all of it out now, I never will. After that, I promise I won't trouble you again."

He risked a glance – Haruhi's neck muscle was so tight with repressed anger it jerked, but she nodded for him to continue.

"When you disappeared, I thought it was a form of… of punishment for my betrayal of Tamaki _._  I suppose even a skeptic like I was still believed in a form of  _karma._  It seemed only just that I lose you from my life completely. That didn't stop me from tracking you down, of course. Even had the others not demanded it, I wouldn't have been able to resist. I had to know that, wherever you were, you were safe. You were happy.

"And then the investigator's report landed on my desk and I knew  _why_  you had run. Suddenly, I had a purpose again, a way to redeem myself. But I am a selfish man and even then I couldn't do the right thing, couldn't simply watch over you and Daiki-kun from afar. I began to convince myself that perhaps my loving you wasn't wrong, it was providence. A way to be sure Tamaki's family was taken care of."

He shook his head. "Stupid, I know - if there was one thing you proved in Sapporo it was that you could look after yourself. But, by the time I realized it, that belief was as vital to my existence as air. Everything I did from that point on was with one objective – to bring you, both of you, home.

"It took time, more time than I had wanted. I had to grow my own fortune and influence so I could protect you if the Suohs proved difficult. By the time I reached my goal, you were in the middle of completing your undergraduate degree. You seemed happy, or at least content, and I knew I should let you be. It sounds so selfless when I say it aloud," he muttered, "I suppose even now I'm twisting the story to suit my own agenda. Truth was, I knew if I approached you then, you wouldn't leave. And that was not a situation I could tolerate. The closer you got to graduation, the harder it became to stay away until I simply couldn't handle it any longer."

Kyoya raised his head, squaring his shoulders like a man going to his execution. "Of all the things I've done, the worst is this – I lied to you. Everything that has happened in your life since January has been at my instigation. If I had advised it, Suoh would have left you there at least until Daiki-kun was in middle school.  _I_  was the one who needed you to come back to Tokyo and I used the threat of him to manipulate you. I'm sure Suoh would have thought of adopting you eventually, but I was the one who planted the seeds for it in his mind. All because I could only think of myself, of what  _I_ wanted. I wanted to marry you, but I didn't have it in me to be patient for ten more years. I couldn't find the courage to walk away from my family, so I selfishly drug you into a world you never wanted to be a part of."

Haruhi's fists were clenched tight, her breathing ragged, but she stayed quiet.

"And there you have it. That is everything I've been trying to hide from you, from everyone. I understand if you want me to leave, to not be around you anymore." His shoulders sagged, defeated. "I know I don't deserve to ask anything but, please, if you could somehow find it possible to allow me to still have a relationship with Daiki-kun I would appreciate it. He's become very… precious to me in his own right. I promise that if you do then, for him, I will try harder to be the man Tamaki would want me to be."

Recitation done, the silence stretched between them, as thin and brittle as he'd made their friendship, threatening to break.

"You… you…" she snarled at him, eyes glowing with the unholy light of the third Host Club demon.

This was going to be bad. She couldn't even spit out her usual invective of 'bastard' at him. Closing his eyes, he prepared to accept her judgement.

"You… you…" she spluttered.

Whatever she said, he more than deserved it.

"You… you... IDIOT!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Kyoya's eyes snapped open. Wait. What?

"What the hell,  _sempai!_ I thought I could depend on you! You were  _supposed_  to be the  _sane_  one of the bunch!" Haruhi's hand gesticulated wildly in the air. "Where do you get off being as angst-ridden and melodramatic as the rest of those morons!"

His brain wasn't fully processing what his ears were hearing, except for one critical factor. "You… you… forgive me?" he whispered, incredulously.

"Forgive you?" She barked a laugh, derision pouring off her. "For what? For being human? For not being a perfect little robot who never experiences envy, or resentment? Who never thinks or feels anything they regret? Dear gods!" her volume lowered, becoming only a decibel or two above a bellow. "Just how badly did your father screw you up?"

She took a deep breath. Then another. Then a third, apparently for good measure. Rubbing at her temple with an exasperation he'd never seen directed at himself, she forced herself to calm down. "Kyoya, all those feelings – they're  _normal!_ Do you honestly think you are the only person to feel things like that? Do you really believe that I never envied people who seemed to float through life without having to face the hardships I did? That I didn't resent Tamaki for stupidly not checking the expiration date on the box of condoms he'd stuffed in the back of his closet?" Dropping her hand she looked at him, a sheen of moisture veiling her eyes. "Do you really think," she whispered, "That I never bitterly regretted all the times I wished he'd stop annoying me and just go away?"

He wanted to pull her to him, run his hands up and down her back and murmur that it wasn't her fault. That it was okay to feel that way. That it was… oh, god! He really was an idiot, wasn't he? A torrent of relief shuddered through him, rocking him down to the core. When it left he felt lighter. Buoyant. Forgiven. Not just by Haruhi, but by Tamaki and, finally after all these years, by himself.

"You can't help how you feel, Kyoya," Haruhi was saying, oblivious to his sudden epiphany, "all you can control is how you act on it. And it sounds to me like you did everything you could  _not_ to act. To not let your relationship with Tamaki, or me, dissolve under envy." The fight left her as quickly as it had come on. Her anger had always been like a summer storm, sudden, intense, and over in a heartbeat. She was simply too kind to hold a grudge. "Now, stop being a dumb-ass and come on inside."

"Haruhi, I…" He would do as she asked, in a minute, but first he had to make things clear. Leave no room for someone as dense as Haruhi often chose to be to misinterpret. "I love you. If I didn't state it directly enough earlier, then let me do it now – I love you. I'm not Tamaki, I never could be, but I cannot imagine him loving you more than I do. If you think, even just a little bit, that you could ever love me half as much as you do him, then please…" Some things just called for a bow. "Please consider going out with me."

Tilting her head, thoughts raced across her face as she considered his request. His hopes repeatedly flagged and rose and flagged again with every new expression in those beautiful, Tanuki-eyes. Finally, coming to a decision, she nodded slowly, as if to herself. "I… I don't think that's possible…"

"I see." Kyoya straightened and tried to pull the pieces of his shattered heart back together. "I'll leave, then. I'm sorry for intrud…"

"Oh, for the love of… stop being so damned over-dramatic! I don't know how to deal with it coming from you." Striding forward, right up to the edge of the foyer steps, she poked a finger in his sternum. "The very  _first_  thing we are going to work on is that self-esteem of yours. You have way too much of it where you shouldn't and too damn little of it where you should."

Hope radiated like a ray of sunshine bursting from the point where her finger met his chest and he felt a ridiculously broad grin begin to form.

Haruhi dropped her hand and leveled him with a glare that dared him to interrupt or jump to conclusions again. "If you'd have let me finish – I was  _going_ to say that I don't think it's possible to love two people the same way, especially not when they're so different.

"Tamaki was… he was a spring breeze, tearing into my life like whirlwind and overturning everything. I will always love him, not just because he entrusted me with his greatest treasure." Her gaze flickered to the ceiling, to where Daiki slept above. "He forced me out of my comfort zone, expanded my horizons. He is a part of the person I am today and will always hold a place in my heart.

"You, though, you are like the ocean. One thing on the surface, and another underneath. I think I could spend my whole life trying and never uncover all your secrets." Lifting her palm, she rested it against his cheek. "But for some strange reason, I want to try. Tamaki was my first love, and that is a very precious thing, but he is also my  _past_. When I think of my present, of my future, the person I see by my side is you."

Kyoya pulled her to him so quickly, he heard the breath knock out of her. He was dripping wet, probably soaking her through to the skin, but he clung tight, unable to let go. Like a drowning man who'd found a life preserver in the middle of the horizon-less sea.

A rumbling avalanche of sound was all the warning he got before something slammed into him and two arms wrapped around his leg with the intensity of a tiny boa constrictor. "Mama! Mama!" Daiki cried, "Does this mean Ootori-ji is going to marry us?"

With almost overwhelming reluctance, Kyoya released Haruhi, disentangled Daiki, and took a step back so he could face her. "I would very much like that," he murmured, "But will take it as fast or slow as you like." The corner of his mouth lifted. "But, just so there are no misunderstandings, for my part I'll be dating you with the intention of marriage."

Haruhi chuckled, eyes teasing. "Isn't that what we've been doing the last six months? Really, what more do we need to know about each other to decide? But, it's not entirely up to me." She tilted her chin in the direction of her son. "Nowadays, I come as a package set."

Kyoya pivoted to face the boy, hands at his side and back straight. "Daiki-kun, I would like to marry your mother, to be part of your family." He bowed formally. "Please give me your permission."

Kyoya didn't receive the exuberant 'yes' he'd expected. Instead, blue-violet eyes, solemn beyond their years, peered back, their expression inscrutable. "You're not my Papa," the child declared firmly.

"No, I'm not." He c ould never replace him, he wouldn't even try.

Pursing his lips, Daiki mulled that over. Coming to some conclusion, he gave a short, sharp nod. "Okay. So, can I call you Tou-chan instead?"

Suddenly, there was simply not enough room in Kyoya's body to hold the warmth bursting within him.

"I think Ootori-ji would like that very much," Haruhi laughed while he could only stand there, blinking owlishly to keep back an attack of unseasonal allergies. "Although, perhaps it would be better to call him Otou-san."

"No," Kyoya cut her off sharply. "No," he repeated more gently. "Tou-chan will be just fine. In fact, it's perfect." He and Daiki shared a smile, then Kyoya turned back to the woman he loved with his whole heart.

And who, for some miraculous reason seemed to love  _him_.

"Daiki-kun," he muttered, "Cover your eyes." The boy giggled, man enough already to know the reason, and complied.

Cupping Haruhi's cheek, Kyoya brushed his thumb over skin as smooth as cream. Slowly, he slid his hand along her cheekbone, grazed his fingertips along her ear, and brought it to rest around the base of her neck. With the other arm, he pulled her in close, into the space she fit so perfectly. As he'd always known she would. Lowering his face to hers, he kept waiting for an objection that never came. Waiting for her to disappear and reveal everything that had happened tonight to have been nothing but a dream. With every fraction of distance he closed, his certainty grew until, by the time his lips brushed gently across hers, he knew in his soul it was real.

Unable to stop himself, even with small, curious eyes trying hard not to look, he deepened the kiss, pouring into it every second of longing, every gram of his struggle and pain, every little piece of the heart that belonged only to her. It had taken six long years and more courage than he'd known he possessed, but in the instant their lips met, Kyoya knew he had finally found the place he was always meant to be.

He had finally found his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END.
> 
> Sort of.
> 
> There will definitely be an epilogue, probably in two parts, because the one thing this story has been short of is some KyoHaru fluff - I need my fix. I might take a short break first, though, so I can catch up on all the wonderful stories I'm following.
> 
> Until then – writing this has been an incredible journey and I can't begin to express my thanks to all the kudoers, lurkers, lovers, haters, commentators, and everyone else. There are too many of you to list, but know that whether you've been with me from the beginning (more than two whole years!) or just found this today, I am grateful for your support, your critiques, and for always challenging me to do my best. So, for all of you - domo arigatou gozaimasu!
> 
> Mamabug


	31. Epilogue, Part 1: Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning - while I don't write anything explicit, there are definite whiffs of citrus below. Avoid if you don't like that sort of thing. Ah, feels so good to write a little fluff between these two after all the slow-burn of getting them together.

"Gods, no!" Mei snatched the offending fabric from Kaoru's hand, tossing it into an ever-growing pile on the floor of Haruhi's study. "The undertones are  _puce!_  Nobody wants to wear puce on their wedding day." Grabbing another piece of cloth from the desk, she held it up to Haruhi's face. "Here, cream is much better."

"Gah!" Kaoru scoffed, " _That_ makes her look jaundiced. Warm yellows do NOT work with her skin tone." Turning, he started routing through the pile of discards. "Where did the frost go? That one had potential."

Haruhi hands clenched and unclenched reflexively as she tried not to strangle either one of them. A desperate glance at the bastard lounging on the sofa in her office proved there would be no help from that quarter.  _He_  was too intensely focused on whatever he was typing on his lap top to notice anything. If he wasn't going to intervene, why did he insist on being here in the first place? It was Wednesday – didn't he have work to do? God knew she wished she did.

Forcing an exhale, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time this morning that the two people acting like a pair of squabbling toddlers were her friends. And Kyoya would be irritable if she made him cover up their justifiable homicide _._

"There!" Kaoru sprang upright, brandishing a wisp of material utterly indistinguishable from the fifty surrounding it. "The blue tint brings out the cool undertones in her skin."

Mei rolled her eyes. "Like there isn't enough 'cool' in the wedding theme already?" She made a derisive snort in Kyoya's direction. "Navy and gray, really? Is this a wedding ceremony or a board meeting?"

Haruhi didn't respond that, with the uniting of the Suoh and Ootori families, the two might as well be the same damn thing.

"She needs something warmer," Mei declared, holding up yet another drapey textile. "Vanilla."

"Snow," Kaoru countered, shoving a swatch in Haruhi's face."

"Antique Lace!"

"Glacier!"

"Clo.."

"WHITE!" Haruhi finally snapped, screaming out the word at the top of her lungs. "They're all. Just. White!"

The two designers reeled back from her, arms flailing and eyes wide in shock.

The 'click' of Kyoya's laptop lid closing resounded like a single drumbeat in the silence which followed. "Mei. Kaoru," he drawled in that deceptively polite tone he used when he wanted someone to recognize the implicit threat in  _not_ doing what he wanted, "Perhaps now would be a good time to take a break. Opening his card case, he pulled out a bright, Usa-chan-pink plastic card. "There's a Honey Bunny's down the block, this should get you anything you want." He smiled. It wasn't friendly. "Maybe you could use the time to reach an agreement about your artistic vision for the dress."

Kaoru huffed. "Whatever." Strolling over to take the card from Kyoya's hand. "Not like we're getting anything done here. Coming trailer-park-queen?"

"There's nothing for ghetto-wannabe here and I to discuss." Mei looked from Haruhi to Kyoya and back again. "But, since I'm really not sure which one of you is scarier right now, I guess I'm in."

The door closed behind them with a  _'bang'_  and Haruhi sagged back against the desk, burying her face in her hands. "Damn! I was a total bitch just now, wasn't I?"

Holding his arm out, he made a 'come here' gesture with his fingers. Feet dragging, she made her way to the sofa and started to sink into the open spot next to him. Before she could, his arm snaked out to grab her hand and tug her onto his lap.

Out of habit, she struggled a little. His right arm was anchored firmly around her waist, but not so tight she couldn't extract herself. That is, if she had really wanted to. The left rubbed little circles up and down the sides of her spine until she relaxed the tension from her shoulders and sank into his embrace.

She'd compared Kyoya to an ocean, deep and mysterious with secrets she'd expected to spend a lifetime discovering. What she hadn't counted on was just how quickly he'd start to give them up, or how unexpected they'd be. And the very first thing she'd discovered was that the legendary 'cool' host, the infamous Shadow King, the man who could terrify anyone with a single glare, was kind of a cuddler.

Oh, not like Tamaki. Or the twins. Or even Honey when he was in his 'cute' mode. Kyoya never smothered her with affection or glomphed onto her against her will, there was no inappropriate touching or intrusive invasion into her personal space, and he was far too aware of his social standing to engage in anything as outrageous as PDAs.

But, every day in a hundred small ways, he reached for her. As if assuring himself she was still there, still by his side. A hand at the small of her back guiding her through a room, a touch to the inside of her elbow to get her attention, the lingering of his fingers along her ear as he tucked an imaginary piece of hair behind it. And, the rare times they found themselves alone, he, and there really was no other word for this,  _snuggled!_

It would be disconcerting, if she didn't find it so cute.

Not that she would ever, EVER, tell him so.

"Better?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah," she sighed. Whatever his fingers were doing to the pressure points on her back was pure magic. "I'll apologize when they get back. I know they mean well, they just want to do their best."

"No."

Sitting up, Haruhi turned a quizzical look on him. "No, they don't mean well or no, they don't want to do their best?"

"I mean, no, I won't let you go about putting everyone else's feelings before your own." He tapped the end of her nose with his finger. "If something is troubling you, tell me."

Haruhi looked away, leaning her head back against his chest, unsurprised he'd realized it was more than the dress fitting that was getting to her. Not that there was any point in saying anything, there was nothing he could do about it. Telling him would only make him unhappy. "It's nothing, really," she tried to assure him, "I guess I'm just a bit nervous about mid-terms."

Tightening his grip on her waist, Kyoya shifted her around, forcing her to face him. "Haruhi, it may have escaped your attention, but I'm a very arrogant man. Completely self-conceited." Crooking his finger under her chin, he lifted her head to meet his gaze. "I  _like_  knowing that I'm the one person who gets to see Haruhi's selfish side." His face sobered, turning serious. "I know I can't solve every problem, and I promise not to intervene in those you want to solve on your own. But I hope, at least, you could come to consider me as the person you share those burdens with."

A little piece of her melted as she fell in love with him all over again.

"I promise, it isn't anything I won't get over." Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she looped her arm around the back of his neck and leaned into him, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. "It's just that sometimes all  _this._ " She waved her hand as if to encompass everything around her. "Feels like a runaway freight train bearing down on me and I can't get off the tracks."

His muscles tightened beneath her. "The marriage?" he asked carefully.

Oh, silly, silly man! Cupping his cheek in her palm, she chastised him with a glare. " _Not_  the marriage." The 'idiot' was unspoken, but unmistakable. " _Never_ the marriage." Dropping her hand, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "The  _wedding_ however…

"You know I was never one of those girls who obsessed over her wedding day. My dad spent more time pouring over bridal magazines than I ever did." She couldn't help but smile at the thought of Ranka, of how much he would have loved every minute of this circus. "I think if I had imagined it, then it would have been something simple. Just you, me, the people we love and who love us back - people who would be there because they genuinely wish for our happiness - not some glorified corporate merger with a five-course dinner, a string quartet, and seven hundred people I don't even know!"

Kyoya averted his head, he was doing that trick again where he tried to make the light glint off his glasses. Her gaze sharpened, eyes narrowing to slits. "What?" she snarled, "Spit it out."

His teeth clenched together in a grimace and she braced herself for whatever came next. "The overseas RSVPs have started coming in, the current guest list is one thousand and thirty-nine."

"One? Thousand?" Her voice rose so high it squeaked.

"And thirty-nine," he clarified, as if that somehow made it better.

"Gods!" She ran a hand through her hair and laughed. If there was a touch of hysteria to it, who could blame her? "That's exactly what I mean. I don't even know ten people who live overseas, let alone three hundred of them!"

Kyoya brought his forehead down to touch hers. "I'm sorry, if there was any way I could get us out of it I would, but…"

"…but the union of the Ootori and Suoh heirs is too significant an event," she replied by rote. "Failing to invite someone who thinks they should be included could impact business relationships at every level."

He'd warned her, as had her parents, but she simply couldn't believe the engagement mattered to anyone but them. The first clue she had that she was dead wrong was the day the engagement was announced - the NIKKEI 225 shot up nearly 500 points at the news.

Then there had been the marriage contract. Topping off at just shy of 400 pages, it had taken three weeks and twenty-four lawyers to work out the exact details of how every single asset they or one of their families owned would be protected, transferred, and/or divided in the event of death, divorce, incapacitation, procreation, and/or a host of other possibilities up to and including one of them being stranded on a desert island and only being rescued after being declared dead.

Her contracts law professor asked for a copy – he planned to teach a seminar on it next semester.

Kyoya chuckled, a rare smile flickering across his face. "Ah, so you  _were_  listening to Otou-sama pontificate on the subject during the engagement dinner."

"What?" Pulling away, she crinkled her nose in distaste. "Hell, no. Whenever he starts on a speech, I just do something more productive – like review my grocery list. Half the time I don't understand him, and the rest of the time whatever he's saying just pisses me off." She shrugged. "Your mother and Anne-Sophie took me aside and explained things. They were nice about it, but pretty clear there was no wiggle room."

The look on their faces when she suggested eloping still gave her nightmares.

"Does it bother you?" The uncertainty was back in his eyes. "Me being named heir? As much as I enjoy the sour look on Yuuichi's face whenever we're in a room together, I'll turn the position down if it does."

Someday, she really would have to do something about that weird gap in his self-confidence he had. Such a smart man to be so stupid about her feelings. "Kyoya," she replied patiently, "I'm not so insecure that I'd need you to do that. I know how you feel about me." She stroked her thumb over his forehead, soothing away the worry lines etched on it. "Besides, you already have so many plans for what you want to do with the Ootori Group, I wouldn't try to take that away. Being the next person to grow your family's legacy – it's important to you."

"Not as important as you," he replied simply.

And then, sometimes, he could be so, so clever. There was really only one response she could give to that, wasn't there? A sincere Shadow King was something she simply had no immunity to.

A few minutes later, she sensed the reluctance in him as they broke apart. Recognized it, because she shared it too. Secret #2, although one probably not known only to her – Kyoya was an amazing kisser. Her mood soured at that thought, but she brushed it aside. Whatever had happened in his life before, he was hers now.

"I think," he said after their breathing had returned to normal, "What you need is a break from everything. I know your passport is still good, we should take a trip, just the two of us. Go somewhere foreign where we're less important. Or at least somewhere with very good security where we won't be bothered."

For a minute, she considered it. It had been years since she'd had a break, a real vacation, and the stress of going from commoner to Suoh to on the front page of newspapers was taking its toll. She could almost picture it - her, Kyoya, maybe a beach? She'd always liked the beach. Then reality intruded, and she shook the daydream away. "I have school…" she began, apologetically.

"We'll go over winter break."

Her next protest rose up immediately. "And there's work…"

"Nobody could accuse you of taking advantage of your social position to get special treatment." He knocked down her objection by striking at the root of it. "None of the other interns are working over the break, they are all returning home to spend it with their family."

"I suppose that's what I should do too." Her shoulders sagged as she came up against the final barrier. "I've never left Dai-chan alone for that long."

"Daiki-kun has two doting grandparents who would love to spoil him for a week. We'll spend Christmas with him and be back in time for the New Year's shrine visit."

Damn, he was good at this. Good thing he'd chosen business for his career, she'd hate to face him as opposing council in a courtroom. Opening her mouth on another counter-argument, she closed it on seeing the hope in his eyes, and the way it was slowly fading.

Their one-month old engagement had been hard on more than just her. On top of winding up his business, merging what he could with a new financial services division of the Ootori Group, he'd taken on all the responsibility of planning their wedding. Stating that he'd been patient long enough, he'd scheduled it for the end of April, so their honeymoon wouldn't interfere with her studies. Kyoya was trying to do in six months what Mori and Hana, who had less than five hundred guests (most of them relatives) were doing in two  _years._

Over-achiever.

For all the ways he'd bent his schedule around her needs, she could afford to compromise. "You're right, a break would be nice," she conceded. The light of hope fanned into a flame, bringing with it a smile that made any sacrifice on her part worthwhile. And, now that it was going to happen, she had to admit that some time for just the two of them was a very attractive idea.

As much as Kyoya had on his plate, he'd still managed to spend almost every day of the past month with her. Instead of the late nights at the office, he'd show up on her doorstep in time for dinner. While she washed the dishes, he helped Daiki with homework (Ouran started them young). Then, all three would curl up on the sofa to watch a movie or gather around the coffee table to play a game. Weekends before the obligatory social functions, they went to the park, or the children's museum, or even the supermarket. Some days, those when she had a ton of homework, he and Daiki would head off on their own for what both of them insisted on calling 'guy time.'

She never would have believed it, but the over-privileged aristocrat genuinely seemed to enjoy all those simple 'common' family activities. It was another one of those secrets he hid from everyone else – while nobody would ever accuse him of being a man of simple tastes, he was one of simple pleasures.

Privately, Haruhi thought it was just more proof that his parents had a hell of a lot to answer for when it came to how they'd raised their children.

But, despite all that time in each other's company, very little of it had been… well, doing what typical engaged couples did. Having a small, impressionable child around came with certain limitations, which Kyoya was careful to respect. He never spent the night and she never went to his apartment. Since even usually sound sleepers could wake up unexpectedly, what few intimate moments they could steal stopped well short of anything more risqué than a little light petting. Yet, never once had he expressed any dissatisfaction with the status quo. He'd been remarkably understanding, far more so than she would have expected any man to be. Maybe, he deserved a reward for his self-restraint.

She knew she sure as hell did.

"In fact…" Lacing her arms around his neck, she swung around to straddle his lap, her folded legs pressed to his. "I think it's such a good idea that we should consider doing it before winter break."

The hands at her waist gripped tighter and his pupils flared. "You're serious?"

"Well, not for a whole week – I still have classes. But, a weekend maybe?" Tilting her head, she gave a little smile she really hoped was seductive. "If you can get away, that is."

"I'll pick you up Friday after class." She almost giggled at how quickly his response came. "I know the perfect place, just leave everything to me."

Leaning forward, she nipped at the corner of his mouth, her hands slipping under the bottom of his sweater. "I always do."

"Ah, if only that were true." Capturing her questing lips with his own, he traced their edges with his tongue, inviting hers to come out and play. The hands at her hips shifted, one rising to the back of her head, tangling in her hair and anchoring her in place, the other beginning its own explorations along the waistband of her jeans before slipping up under her shirt to stroke the small of her back.

Haruhi lost herself in the kiss, every sense filling with him until she was overwhelmed - the scent of tea and spice, the faint taste of mint on his tongue. Her hands played in his hair, twining the silky tresses around her fingers. Against her back, jolts of electricity radiated out from every place his fingers touched, setting little sparks of light dancing behind her closed eyes. Her soft moan was answered by a deeper one, the masculine and feminine sound mingling together in a harmony as old as mankind – oh, yeah, a trip was a really, really,  _really_  good idea!

"Oi!" A fist pounded against the study door, the loud thumping echoing off the walls. Guiltily, Haruhi and Kyoya jumped back from each other, hastily rearranging their clothes into a semblance of propriety. "Hope you two are decent because we're coming in!"

The door flew open on the last word and Kaoru bounded inside. "Champagne!" he shouted triumphantly, "We've agreed - it's the perfect color, just the right hint of cool pink."

" _And_ it will pick up the hue of the Sakura blossoms," Mei said, tumbling in after him, "Your wedding pictures will look amazing!" She clapped her hands together. "Now, let's talk silhouettes…."

Almost immediately, the two started bickering, bandying about words like 'sheath,' and 'ballgown' and 'trumpet.' Haruhi buried her head against Kyoya's neck and groaned, "I can't kill them, can I?"

"I wouldn't object if you did." His chest rumbled against her ear as he chuckled. "Although it would save me a lot of trouble if you waited until after the wedding."

* * *

"As you can see, Suoh-sama, this room is equipped with a private, open-air  _onsen_." The elderly proprietress slid open the glass doors leading to a porch fully open on the far side and shielded by high walls on the other two.

Haruhi obediently turned her attention to what looked like a wooden soaking tub, big enough for four. The hot water mingled with the cold, November mountain air to form a fog that spilled over the sides.

"It may look traditional, but I assure you the pipework is quite modern." The innkeeper pointed out a large wooden sluice pouring steaming water into the tub. "The water is brought in directly from the spring we are named after and completely replaced every two hours." Gesturing to the open side, she continued, "It's too dark to see it now, but the balcony directly overlooks the valley below and, if the weather cooperates tomorrow, you should have a wonderful view of Mt. Fuji."

Haruhi nodded and tried very hard not to think about how much all this must cost. Knowing would just prevent her from fully enjoying the  _ryokan_  Kyoya had arranged for their weekend getaway. And if she said anything, he'd just give her  _the look._  That one-arched-eyebrow thing which silently mocked her frugal instincts. The one that said, 'you aren't a commoner anymore.' As if her daily life now didn't bring enough reminders of that.

The food. She'd just think about how great the food at a place like this would be.

Tour complete, the woman motioned them back inside and shut the doors. "I hope you'll forgive me for saying this, Suoh-sama, but we are deeply honored you chose our humble inn for your vacation." Her eyes glowed with a light Haruhi was coming to know all too well.

Oh gods, next would be the bow. The deep, overly respectful bow she never knew how to respond to.

"I know we can't begin to compare to your family's world-renowned establishment in Kyoto -  _Heiwa Ryokan_  is an inspiration to all of us." Yep – here it came. Someone easily three times Haruhi's age was bowing before her like a subject to an empress. "I sincerely hope you will not find us lacking in any manner."

Haruhi cast a panicked look in Kyoya's direction. With a slightly bemused air, one that screamed 'you owe me,' he adjusted his glasses and stepped forward. "I have no doubt everything will be up to your usual excellent standards, Mochizuki-san." Haruhi had to say this for the bastard, he didn't do anything in half-measures. He was turning the full power of his 'host' charm on the unsuspecting septuagenarian. "Your inn was recommended to me by Yuzuru-san himself as being an impeccable example of traditional service and hospitality." The old woman flushed and fluttered at his praise like a school girl.

"I'm also very impressed by your artwork over here." Kyoya moved to the wall, examining the scroll hanging in the recessed alcove built into the room. The woman scurried over to join him, giving Haruhi back her much-needed personal space. "Cranes flying over Mt. Fuji, ink on silk. Original, not reproduction. Meiji era, I think? Exquisitely rendered, though I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the artist."

"Ah, that's one of our local artists." Mochizuki beamed. "My grandmother often allowed a talented guest to pay for part of his stay with a piece. Everything we have on display in the public areas and rooms is original."

"Interesting. You'll have to give me a personal tour."

That comment got the woman tittering behind her hand. Haruhi tried not to roll her eyes and tuned them both out.

There were parts of being a Suoh she still had trouble adjusting to. The 'long lost friends' she could politely brush aside, the pestering strangers she just ignored, but she was out of her depth when it came to those who treated her with adulation. Who viewed her as some type of idol based on nothing she herself had done, nothing anyone she was actually related to had done.

Wandering to the windows, Haruhi stared out at the darkness beyond, one ear listening as Kyoya wrapped up the conversation as expeditiously as possible. The owner offered them a meal, even though the dinner service was long over ( _Thank you, but we didn't want to impose so we ate on the way)_ , she countered, pressing hard to have him accept a pot of tea with some snacks  _(A soothing_   _cup of_ hojicha _would be just the thing to help us relax and enjoy the peaceful ambiance),_ and finally, after a few more rounds of each trying to out-polite the other, she left, promising to send in the maid to lay out the futons.

As soon as she departed, Kyoya came up behind Haruhi, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Thanks," she stated, "For stepping in, I mean." The darkness outside was so deep the glass acted like a mirror and she wrinkled her nose at him. "Although I didn't really expect it. You tend to think it's funny watching me flounder about in embarrassment."

"It  _is_ entertaining." His lips brushed against her ear and she shivered. "But I didn't think irritating you tonight wouldn't be in my best interests."

The not-so-subtle reminder of the true purpose of the trip had her heart leaping up to lodge in her throat. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, back when she'd been more… in the moment. But with the event itself so close at hand, a weird nervousness swamped her senses, making her pulse race faster than the way Kyoya'd taken the mountain curves on the journey in.

Another unexpected secret – he was something of a speed demon.

"I…" She gulped, casting about for a distraction. Her eyes settled on the  _onsen_  outside. "I wonder why they refresh the water every two hours? I mean, I like things clean and all but that seems excessive."

Against her back, his body rocked with silent laughter. "I could probably explain." Twisting her about to face him, the smile he gave her was almost playful. "But a demonstration would be much more fun, don't you think?"

Her heart rate went from a brisk ' _ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta'_ to full on  _taiko-_ drum pounding, every drop of water evaporating from her throat. The smile faded from his face, replaced by unmistakable intention. Haruhi could only stand there, mesmerized. She couldn't look away from his eyes any more than a moth could from a flame. They were luminous, the color of a storm charged with lightening, heralding a different kind of thunder. His head lowered towards hers and she warred within herself, torn between wanting to rise up on her toes to meet him and fleeing in panic.

Then, as quickly as the intimacy had started, it ended. Without warning, Kyoya dropped his arms and took a full step back away from her. Haruhi shivered, rubbing her arms to bring back the heat he'd taken with him. Before she could ask about his sudden withdrawal, a light scrape against the floor outside the door gave the reason – the maid had arrived with their tea. Sensing company approaching, Kyoya had retreated to the decorum he was careful to display in front of others. In the empty space stretching between them, panic won.

"I've got to…," Haruhi blurted out an excuse and darted away to the small lavatory just as the maid slid open the door.

Pressing her back up against the washroom door, her hands flattened against it at her side, Haruhi gulped air into her lungs. Tried to calm her pulse, tried to recover the certainty she'd had two days ago.

This was ridiculous, what the hell was wrong with her? It wasn't like she was some eighteen-year-old virgin - she had a kid for heaven's sake! And this wasn't some one-night stand with a random stranger, this was the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. There was no reason to be acting like one of those skittish, insecure heroines in those manga Kirimi had once made her read.

Out in the room, she could hear Kyoya making polite chit-chat with the maid as she put away the dining table and laid out the futons. The thought of their sleeping arrangements caused another flutter of panic and she forced it back down. Closing her eyes, she focused on the pounding in her ears and let it fade until the background noise washed over her. One deep breath. Another. And another. Over and over until she'd calmed down.

Haruhi opened her eyes, having reached the eye of her internal hurricane. Enough with the girlish jumpiness, she was a grown woman who knew her own heart. Knew what – and who – she wanted. It was time to act like it.

Walking to the sink, she turned on the water to provide cover for her hasty flight out of the room. Getting it as cold as she could stand, she wet her hands and brought them up to her neck and cheeks to reduce their bright crimson color. That was better, no need for the awkwardness – it was only sex, after all.

Right. And that was sort of the problem.

Reluctantly, her eyes drifted up to meet those of the woman staring back from the mirror. She couldn't help but study her, noting all the changes time had wrought, and the hurricane in her mind started to blow again. She wasn't eighteen anymore. And she'd had a kid. The girl she'd been only still existed in her mental self-image. The woman in the mirror's hips were bigger, her breasts saggier. Somewhere underneath the clothes, she had stretch marks.

Kyoya, in that unfair way men could, had only grown more handsome with age. At just shy of twenty-six, he hadn't even hit his peak while she was practically 'Christmas Cake.' Then, there was the…  _other_ thing, the other glaring difference between them. Because while she might not be a virgin, for all the experience she'd had, that was almost a technicality.

Sex during high school had been, for her, out of the question - academics came first. There was no way she was going to jeopardize the scholarship she'd worked so hard for by getting distracted. Even if she'd been willing to consider it, she and Tamaki would have had to evade five meddling chaperones on one side and an over-protective father on the other. And all that assumed Tamaki himself would be willing.

For all his flirting and innuendos, there had been an innocence about him when it came to their physical relationship. A restraint bordering on old-fashioned. He'd liked to tease her, adored making her blush, but the few times she'd acted open to more, he had been the one to put the brakes on. She'd always felt that a part of him - the serious part that lurked just under the surface - wasn't willing to take their relationship to the next level until he'd turned twenty. Until he was a legal adult and could marry her with or without his family's approval.

And once they finally did take that step, there simply hadn't been that much time. Her studies, his studies, her father's illness, his growing responsibilities to his family's business, her part time job – she could count on one hand the number of times they'd been intimate and still have fingers left over. So here she was, virtually a virgin whereas Kyoya…

She hadn't asked and didn't want to know. But, she wasn't  _that_  naïve. The only one of her friends she suspected matched her in number of partners was Honey, and even there she wasn't entirely certain. Living so close to all of them in Boston made her realize that there were whole areas of their lives they conspired to shield their 'princess' from.

Whatever Kyoya was used to, she doubted it was women like her. He had all the things women found attractive – intelligence, success, charm, insanely good looks. Even without the minor fact of being a billionaire several times over no matter which currency you counted in, women must have swarmed over him like flies at a picnic. Compared to him, she was so far out of her depth it was frightening. If he was the ocean, she wouldn't even be a children's wading pool. Was it any wonder she was feeling insecure?

The Haruhi in the mirror stared back, challenge in her eyes. Mocking her doppelganger for being a coward. And an idiot. Reminding her that this wasn't a one-night stand with a random stranger, this was the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. The man who planned to spend the rest of his life with her.

Because if what Kyoya wanted was a woman  _unlike_  her, then they wouldn't even be here at all. While there were many times he would hold himself back, sometimes for incredibly stupid reasons, he was a man who always knew exactly what he wanted.

Yes, she was nervous. Yes, she felt unsophisticated and uncertain. Yes, she hated being out of her comfort zone. But one thing the older Haruhi had learned, that Tamaki and her father and all the people she loved had taught her, was that in a relationship, as in life, the starting point wasn't the destination. And neither of those was as important as the journey itself.

And the only companion she wanted on this road was him.

The soft slide of the  _shoji_  door closing signaled the maid's departure, leaving them alone. Slowly, vertebrae by vertebrae, she stiffened her spine, gathered her courage, and stepped out into the room and onto the path she'd chosen. Ready to face the man she had chosen.

The man who was currently standing at the sideboard, fiddling with the teapot the maid had left with his back to both her and the side-by-side futons now dominating the room. The positioning was to unnatural to be anything but intentional.

"It was a long trip," he spoke without looking at her, "You must be tired. Would you like some tea?" Lifting the pot, he removed the lid and inhaled the vapor rising from it like it was a special treat. "It's  _karigane,_ locally sourced." Replacing the lid, he poured a cup for each of them. "I'm told the family has been purchasing it from the same tea shop since the Edo era."

The remains of Haruhi's nervousness melted away. The light tone of voice, the innocuous topic of conversation, even the set of his shoulders all told her he was laying aside any expectations he had for this trip. Setting her wants, or at least what he thought those wants were, ahead of his own. Placing the outcome entirely in her hands.

"There are homemade snacks too, though I'm not sure how you'd have room after all the trout  _sashimi_  you ate at the restaurant," he teased, "Quite an assortment, I think they're trying to impress you.  _Manju, karinto, monaka,_ even a small dish of  _konpeito_." He shook his head at that last one. "I've never understood it's popularity. How is anyone other than Honey able to eat pure sugar?" He picked up the tea cups, one in each hand, and started to turn. "After, we could try the communal baths – they're open until elev…"

He stopped mid-word. Taken completely off guard when Haruhi wound her arms around him, pressing her cheek up against his back. Slowly, with exquisite care, he set down the tea cups in his hands and turned, pulling her in close and cradling her against him. He had to be curious at her sudden boldness, but he asked no questions. Anchoring her to him with one arm, with the other he stroked up and down her back, waiting on her to set the pace.

"You know," she said, speaking into his chest, "That for me there's only been Tamaki, right?"

"Ah." He breathed out the word like it was the solution to a tricky problem and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Are you warning me it's been awhile or worried that I'll be disappointed?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't know… both maybe?"

He went quiet again, gathering his thoughts. "For the first, I promise we can take things as slow as you need. I can't say I'd be just as happy waiting until later, but I'd prefer that to you forcing yourself for my sake. As for the second…" She felt every muscle in his body tense against her then release on a sigh. "Well, for me… there's only been Haruhi."

It took a second for his meaning to percolate all the way to her brain. "What?" Tilting her head back, she looked at him with mild disbelief. "You're joking."

"Haruhi," he drawled with a touch of irritability, "Generally when a man lies about this sort of thing it's in the opposite direction."

"But… you're, well… you! You can't tell me you never had a girlfriend!" A pinkish tinge stained his cheek and he fidgeted.

Oh! He really was telling the truth, wasn't he? That was… kind of weird and yet extraordinarily endearing at the same time. And he was so embarrassed. It would be wrong of her to press the matter, wouldn't it?

But, then again…

She couldn't even begin to count the number of times he'd been the one to put her at a disadvantage. Teased her for her naivety, her 'commoner' view of the world. Made her feel flustered and self-conscious and more than a bit aggravated. Considering all that, how could she pass up one of the few opportunities she would ever get to turn the tables on him?

"So… no friends-with-benefits?" She was a bad, bad fiancée for enjoying how he squirmed under her questioning. "No one-night stands? Drunken college hook-ups? No…"

"That's. Enough," he growled in the voice he used on the twins. Maybe she'd gone a bit too far - self-preservation kicked in and she snapped her mouth shut, fighting off a laugh. Kyoya looked down on her and his face softened, forming into a wistful expression. "Haruhi, I've been in love with one woman since I was sixteen-years-old. Whatever makes you think I'm the type who could settle for second best?"

Sincerity. It got her every damn time.

"Well, in that case…" She brought her hands up and slipped the glasses off his face, removing the last barrier between them. Setting them next to the tea, she lifted herself up on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his. "I guess in this, I'm  _your_   _sempai_."

"I suppose you are." He clutched at her, pulling her in tight until every centimeter of her body pressed against his. "So,  _sempai -_ please take care of me."

* * *

Kyoya cushioned the back of his head on interlaced fingers and stared up at the ceiling, pondering the unfamiliar sensation coursing through him. More filling than contentment, less tranquil than peace, without the jagged edges of exultation – joy, possibly? It felt something like that. Something very close to the way he'd felt at fifteen when he'd realized there were more important things in life than simply existing to further his father's agenda.

It was similar, but not quite the same.

Back then he'd felt buoyant, an eagle soaring above those that sought to drag him down. Out of reach of those who wanted to yoke him with the tyranny of their own expectations. But even that joy felt too… shallow for what this was. Because this feeling didn't merely soar, it grounded. Creating a balance, an internal equilibrium all its own. It flowed up from within like one of the hot springs surrounding them - pure and inexhaustible – before spilling over and seeping down to fill all the cracks and crevices in his soul.

Someone once wrote that, once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth. One by one, he'd compared this new emotion to any he'd ever had, discarding each of them until there was only one possibility left – he, Ootori Kyoya, was happy. Love had done the impossible and brought happiness into his life.

Gods, he almost cringed at how cliché that sounded. Hated how he had to admit, even if only to himself, that all of Tamaki's stupid romantic ideas might have been - no, that they  _were_  - right. Wherever he was, that moron was probably beaming that idiotic grin and thinking, 'I told you so,  _mon ami_.' For once in his life, though, Kyoya decided not to over-analyze or second guess. Right here, right now, he was simply going to enjoy. Enjoy being truly and utterly happy because of the amazing woman burrowing against his side.

Next to him, Haruhi flopped over on her back and stretched her arms over her head, languid as a cat right down to the kitten-like 'mewl' of satisfaction. "So," she asked, practically purring, "Just me, huh?"

Kyoya turned, propping his head on his hand. "Hmmm…" Reaching out one finger, he lazily trailed a path along the delicate contours of her collarbone. "I think I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Under the warmth of the paper-covered lights, her skin glowed like pearl. He could easily spend forever just like this, studying her. Learning her every nuance. She was a subject he'd never grow tired of. A second finger joined it's brother, then a third, gliding across her skin, up along her shoulder, and brushed against the bottom of her ear.

Oh! Now that was interesting, that tiny little tremble of her chin. Had he found a weakness? Wanting to confirm, he tried again - this time the quiver came with a muted squeak.

"Just you," he confirmed, bringing his mouth to her shoulder, compelled to discover what other sounds he could get her to make, "But I've always been a quick study." Following the path his fingers had taken with the tip of his tongue provoked a breathy sigh. "With excellent visualization techniques." Gently, he sucked one shell-like ear lobe between his lips and scraped it against his teeth, eliciting a strangled moan. "Plus, I have a list."

"A? List?" The words came out between gasps and he smiled against her neck.

"Mmm… hmm…" He kissed his way to where her pulse pounded against her neck. "Item #3, Kiss Haruhi. Item #7, Undress Haruhi." He dotted each line item with a kiss – neck, shoulder blade, suprasternal notch (such a horribly clinical name for what might be his favorite piece of an anatomy).

"#17…" Shifting to hover over her, he centered his next kiss right on her breastbone. "Make love to Haruhi while she's wearing her Ouran uniform." Her body convulsed on a laugh. Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Keep in mind, some of these things have been on the list for a very, very long time."

If he'd ever thought her beautiful, then at this moment - skin rosy from arousal, eyes caught between laughter and tenderness, lips parted on a smile – she was radiant. However long his list grew, he knew he'd never reach the end. Never exhaust all the ways he wanted to love her. The bubbling spring within him welled up, spilling over until it could no longer be contained. Haruhi's breath caught, her eyes filling with wonder, and he knew that the wild, unrestrained happiness he felt had broken past his shields and was there on his face for anyone to see.

But, he didn't care. He had far better things to do.

"We'll have to revisit that one at another time," he promised, turning his attention back to the body writhing beneath his and brushing his lips across her abdomen. "But right now, I think we should try #26."


	32. Epilogue, Part 2: Benediction

"Ki-chan! Oh my god, we forgot Ki-chan!"

Haruhi bolted upright in her airplane seat and leaned forward to scoop her purse off the floor, frantically rooting around in it until she found what she needed. Triumphant, she extracted her cell phone from the cavernous sack, brandishing it before her like a talisman.

Before she could unlock it, a large hand closed over it, plucking it from her grasp. "Hey!" She turned an indignant glare on her seatmate, "I was using that."

Smirking, Kyoya simply transferred it to his left hand and held it up in the air. On cue, the ever-diligent Tachibana rose from his seat at the back of the private jet and loped down the aisle to take it from his employer and tuck it safely in his suit jacket before returning to his seat.

"We agreed," Kyoya reminded sanctimoniously, "This is a vacation – no cell phones or laptops except for a daily Skype to Daiki-kun."

Haruhi crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips at him. True, she'd been the one to insist on that provision – otherwise one or both of them would end up spending the entire time working (him) or studying (her) - but under the circumstances, couldn't he bend just a little? "I just need to send the Suohs a quick text. I think we forgot to pack Ki-chan and Dai-chan can't fall asleep without it."

Kyoya's lips jerked with the effort of holding back the smile he was too smart to let show. "Haruhi, it's already well past Daiki-kun's bedtime so either 1. You did pack it. 2. You didn't but it wasn't a problem, or 3. It's already been dealt with. Yuzuru-san  _does_  have a key to your house in case Daiki-kun needs anything, remember?" His smile couldn't be contained any longer and emerged as a minute upturning at the corners of his mouth. "As does Shima, the head housekeeper, the butler, and the over-paid security company watching the place. There is no shortage of people who could be tasked to fetch a stuffed toy."

Haruhi slumped back in her seat with a huff and ran her hands over her face. Damn it, he was right. The bastard. She really hated it when that happened. "I'm being a worry-wart again, aren't I?"

"No, you're being a good mother," Kyoya chuckled, "But you don't need to be so concerned – it isn't like you left your son with strangers. He's got two indulgent grandparents taking care of him, not to mention a dozen servants, a formidable nanny, and three dogs. He's protected around the clock by Yuzuru-san's security staff and, if that's not enough, the Suohs have a full platoon of the Black Onion Squad on speed dial. Plus, if he were to get so much as a sniffle, his grandfather-to-be would mobilize the entire Tokyo medical community to cure him. The only child in Japan better looked-after and protected than Daiki-kun is currently in line for the imperial throne."

Well, when he put it like  _that,_ her existential parental dread that something horrible would happen and she wouldn't  _be_   _there_ was… quite simply, it was ridiculous. How the hell had her father managed to cope with a job that left her alone so often? Laughing at herself, she tilted her head back against the seat. "In my mind, I know that's true but… it's just that it was hard enough to leave him for a weekend, I think a whole week might be impossible for me."

Kyoya shifted suddenly, leaning across her seat and bringing his face within centimeters of hers and, just like that, all thoughts of stuffed toys and unforeseeable accidents flew out of her head. "If you need to take your mind off things, I have a suggestion," he drawled, low and seductive. His fingers reached out to skim along her temple, tucking her hair behind her ear. The gentle stroke of fingernails down the side of her neck ignited every single nerve ending in her body.

Glittering gray eyes trapped her, pinned her in place with the hypnotic gaze of tiger about to pounce, the hint of mischief in them doing nothing to diminish the heat. Nothing to lessen in one bit the crackling, electricity of 'intent' which sparked off him, licking at her skin and sending tiny flickers of warmth racing along her spine. Turning his hand, he cupped her cheek and closed the distance between them, his breath intermingling with hers as he whispered, "You do realize this plane comes fully equipped with a master bedroom?"

Ohhhh… That was… It had been a month since his birthday, the last time they could arrange a break in their schedules. A long month of being a responsible adult with an impressionable child. A very,  _very_  long month of brief caresses and teasing kisses that always stopped short of where she really wanted them to.

And why the hell not? They were child-free, they were on vacation, and, according to him, they hadn't even begun to make a dent in that incredibly inventive and exhaustive list of his. Haruhi's tongue snaked out, moistening lips dry from more than the pressurized cabin air, and she opened her mouth to say 'Ye…'

_Slam!_

The flight attendant banged the cockpit door closed, ensuring it was safely latched, and Haruhi returned to her senses with a jolt. All the heat in her body channeled straight to her cheeks, she was getting too used to being one of the 'damn rich bastards' she'd always complained about. Starting to lose her awareness of the people that constantly surrounded her, the people her classmates ignored because they didn't matter.

"No way,  _sempai_ ," she growled, pushing against him with more force than strictly necessary.

Kyoya arched one eyebrow and she almost apologized for taking her anger at herself out on him. Almost. She absolutely would have if he didn't seem to be laughing at her attack of middle-class sensibility. "Haruhi, you do realize we borrowed this plane from the Hitachiins – I'm sure the staff here are both discrete and inured to all manner of activities."

"Ewwwww…" She wrinkled her nose. "Thanks for  _that_ visual. Now it's not just 'no' but 'hell no.' I think my brain needs  _bleach_."

Kyoya collapsed back in his chair, making no effort at all anymore to hide his amusement. "Ah, well – I suppose we'll have to cross number thirty-six off the list another time." In one graceful move he rose to his feet, turning to her and extending his hand. "But it is a long flight and we'll arrive there late morning. I insist we at least get as much of a good night's sleep as possible."

Through the miracle of international travel, after sitting in this tin-can for seven hours they would arrive in Hawaii on Christmas morning – a full twelve hours  _before_  they had left Tokyo. If she wanted to reduce jet-lag and not spend the night trying to get rest in her chair, then the cabin was her only option.

She really, really,  _really_ , hated it when he was right.

Reaching to take his hand, she stopped, fingers hovering just over his upturned palm and narrowed her eyes. "Just sleep?"

"If you insist," he replied, throwing in an "I promise" in the face of her skepticism as if it didn't leave him a great deal of wiggle room. If nothing else, her engagement to Kyoya would result in her being amazing at contractual law.

Deciding he was being at least somewhat honest, she accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet. With a nod to Tachibana and instructions to the flight attendant to wake them at eight in the morning local time, he escorted her the short walk to the back of the plane.

One hand at the small of her back, he used the other to push open the cabin door and gesture her to proceed him. Just as she stepped forward, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "But I never promised not to try and change your mind."

* * *

Haruhi leaned her head back to catch more of the sun's warming rays on her cheeks. The wind rushed over the convertible (sleek, blue, vaguely shark-like, and undoubtedly expensive), roaring in her ears like a waterfall, tugging and tangling the ends of her ponytail. Sunlight flickered through the canopy above their heads, dancing among leaves the most vivid shade of green she'd ever seen and the air was permeated with the scent of sea and sun and earth and all manner of growing things. She couldn't resist inhaling it deeply into her lungs, releasing it on a sigh that relaxed every fiber in muscles tense from three non-stop weeks of studying for finals.

Credit where credit was due, winter break in Hawaii was a great idea. Sometimes, Kyoya's being 'right' most of the time wasn't such a bad thing.

Sometimes.

Propping her elbow on the car window frame, she rested her head on her fist and turned to study him. Noted the microscopic flinch of his jaw, the brief squeeze his hands gave the wheel, the barely perceptible rise of his shoulders towards his ears before he forced them back down again. His eyes left the road for a nanosecond, sliding to meet hers with a smile before focusing back on the sedate country road between the airport and Kauai's Northern shore with the intensity of a Formula 1 driver in a career-making race.

Something was up. She'd had her suspicions all day, but now she had enough evidence to be certain. Something was making him tense, concerned, maybe even apprehensive. The man next to her was not one enjoying his vacation, was not relaxed and happy. A 'relaxed and happy' Kyoya was was sarcastic, acerbic, and just the slightest bit evil.  _This_  Kyoya was too polite, too reserved, even for him.

It had begun the minute they'd woken up. At first, she'd thought he was pouting over her refusal to let him cross number thirty-six off his damned list or that this was what happened when the 'low-blood-sugar-demon' met jet-lag. But, he'd still been subdued even after three cups of coffee, two spiced pumpkin scones, and a heated 'I'll make it up to you later' kiss.

And, things hadn't improved one bit once they landed. When she'd made him stop for lunch and sight-seeing in a historic beach side town with an unpronounceable name, he  _hadn't_ regarded the colorful, slightly ramshackle buildings as if they were one minor tremor away from falling on his head. He didn't wince when she'd headed straight for the local fish market and ordered two bowls of something resembling minced  _chirashi_  tossed with sauce and vegetables, didn't hold up a piece of fish and eye it suspiciously as if trying to discern its pedigree and didn't grimace when she'd insisted he try a bite of her pickled mango shaved ice afterward. In fact, the only 'Kyoya' thing he  _had_  done was look testily at his watch and try to dissuade her from spending more time at the lovely public beach at the center of town.

Something was definitely up. Or, more likely, Kyoya was up to something. The real question was, just how upset would she be when he finally told her what it was?

The road widened, the landscape morphing from tropical jungle to asphalt, lawns, and wooden buildings as they entered another town. Halfway through, Kyoya turned right onto a side road heading in the direction of the water. Haruhi looked at him, curious, but any questions she had died on her tongue. His expression had gone from 'preoccupied' to 'downright grim.'

Another turn had them heading down a narrower road. Colorful beach houses, small by American standards, clustered on the landward side of the road opposite a tall, stone wall that obscured her view completely. Straining her eyes, she could just make out the tops of palm trees beyond it, swaying in a breeze that carried with it the smell of salt water. Up ahead, the barricade broke in two, forming an entrance bedecked with flowerbeds on both sides and a fountain artfully sculpted to look like a natural waterfall in the center, bifurcating the driveway.

She wasn't at all surprised when Kyoya circled the wheel sharply, angling the car around the water feature and through the gates. Her rusty English-reading skills weren't up to processing all of the words on the wrought-iron sign arching above them, but she caught enough to be equally unfazed by the view the fence had shielded from her. The road cut through a golf-course sized lawn, heading towards a central building. The shape, and the bright white paint contrasting against a backdrop of tropical blue sea, put Haruhi in mind of a cruise ship gone to ground. Smaller buildings, also white, clustered around it on both sides like baby chicks.

Damn it, it was a resort _._ At least, that was what the sign had said. She didn't have much luck with those. Hopefully this one would be lacking in alligators. Oh, gods, was it one of the ones she now owned? Given Kyoya's suspicious behavior, she wouldn't want to bet against it.

Gritting her teeth against what she knew was coming, she tamped down hard on her irritation. She'd at least let him explain himself, maybe this was a pit stop and not the final destination. He'd told her he'd rented a private beach cottage for them to stay at. Given it was  _him_ , she'd been expecting an ornate villa suitable for the potentate of a small country, but even that was preferable to here.

She never used to mind places like this, just thought of them as a waste of money. Now, though, she got so much attention whenever she visited even the smallest pensión that it made her uncomfortable. It was even worse when it was a Suoh property, then everyone acted like she were visiting royalty. But that wasn't what irritated her, oh no, it was that he hadn't  _told_  her. Maybe it was time for another little chat about how she was a reasonable adult who could understand things like 'family obligation' or 'security concerns.'

They pulled up to the front entrance and, before he had time to put it in park, two young men darted forward with more alacrity than if she had been the President. The taller one, an American surfer type with hair bleached white from the sun, bounded around the car to the driver's side. The other, older and more mature despite boyish features perfectly blending East and West, opened her door with a flourish that spoke of long hours spent on the proper protocol when an owner came to visit.

That 'chat' was about to become a full on argument.

"Ms. Suoh, welcome to Kauai," he beamed with an irrepressible infectiousness that had her grinning back, then repeated his greeting in a liltingly-accented Japanese.

"Thank you," she replied, in both languages as well, taking his outstretched hand and rising to her feet. She wasn't going to take her ire out on an innocent bystander.

The young man's eyes flickered to just over her shoulder and he stepped back with a tiny bow, quietly disappearing into the background, the space he'd left open immediately filled by Kyoya. She scowled. A not-so-innocent bystander was a different story.

"Haruhi…" he started to say. Then stopped, his expression so pained, it bordered on constipated. Then opened his mouth again, "Haruhi, I…"

"Mama! Mama! You're here!" Out of nowhere, a small body slammed into her side, wrapping its arms around her knees with the strength of a boa constrictor. Haruhi's hand moved on its own, reflexively ruffling Daiki's hair.

"God dam… I mean… Gosh darn it, monkey! Don't run off on…" Hikaru bolted out the front door next, stopping as if he'd run into a wall when he saw who was in the driveway. "Oops."

Looking from her son to her friend and back again, Haruhi's irritation did an about-face and veered straight into confusion.

"Thank God, finally! Mei, Stefan and I only have exactly…" Kaoru followed out on his brother's heels, frowning at his watch. "Two hours and thirty-six minutes to get her ready. What the hell took you over two hours to get from the airport to here?"

"Mmmm… these malasadas are really good." Honey strolled out next, licking sugar off his fingers. "I think we should put them on the menu, do a 'foods of the world theme', ne? Hi Kyo-chan, hi Haru-chan, how was your flight?" The diminutive host patted his breast pocket. "Don't worry, Kyo-chan, I've got the rings right… right…" His face fell in dismay and he started patting every pocket on the light-gray suit he wore.

Haruhi's eyes contracted into slits. A suit? Here? And, just coincidentally, the exact same one all the rest of the ex-Hosts wore? She looked down at the tiny figure clutching her side. His suit wasn't quite the same, but it was close enough. Confusion morphed into suspicion which decided to pull out all the stops and head straight for 'pissed off.'

Arms crossed over her chest, her right foot tapped an impatient tattoo. Only one person could be behind this and she glared right at that raven-haired, manipulative, bastard.

"I…I can't find the rings!" Honey howled, giant tears forming at the corner of his eyes. "I'm sorry Kyo-chan!"

"They're here, Mitskuni," assured the oldest host, who'd taken up his usual spot beside his cousin, patting his own breast pocket.

"Yay! Then, let's go get the groom ready!" Honey bounced up and down on his toes. "And eat some more malasadas. Oh!" He frowned in consternation. "But then I might not have room for wedding cake. And the cake looks really, really good."

Mori's eyes swept from Haruhi to Kyoya and back. "Mitskuni," he grumbled, placing his hand on the  _other_  person-who-really-should-have-known-better's shoulder, "We should go review the security plan one more time first."

"But we already..." Honey tilted his head in cherubic perplexity. Following his cousin's gaze towards Haruhi, his eyes widened in alarm. "Oh. Okay. Yeah, we should go do that, Takashi. Right. Now."

Karou, alerted to the oncoming storm, held his hands up placatingly and backed away slowly. "I'll... go make sure Mei hasn't made any more last-minute changes to the dress."

"C'mon sprout." Hikaru his shoulders shaking in silent laughter, grabbed Daiki's arm and pulling the boy back into the hotel. "Let's let your mom and uncle Ootori have a minute to... talk."

As soon as the courtyard cleared, Haruhi slowly arched one eyebrow at the high-handed, bespectacled, Machiavelli. "Care to explain,  _sempai?"_

She expected him to respond in his usual way – back straight, finger-pushing-up-his-glasses, condescending explanation of how this was the most logical, rational, and reasonable thing to do. How by moving up the wedding, she wouldn't have to spend the next four months dreading it. Maybe there would be some nonsense about how practical a solution it was, how the timing and foreign location reduced the guest list from over a thousand to a mere eight hundred or so. Somehow or other, he'd try to talk her out of her righteous indignation.

But he didn't.

Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Haruhi, I…" He stopped, then shook his head. "No. I can't do it like this." With no more warning than that, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up tight against his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. In public! In full view of anyone who might be watching! She was too stunned to even try and struggle.

"There are so many things you want in your life," he murmured into her hair, "Things I won't be able to give you – even with money and power and position. That I can't give you  _because_  of the money, power, and position. I know your life now and in future won't be the way you expected it to be. The way you planned. And I wish I could change that."

As apologies went, this was a good beginning. His sincerity was always her undoing. She felt her anger ease and her body soften against his. Releasing her grasp on her own elbows, she slid her arms around his waist and nuzzled her cheek against his heart. The steady 'thu-thump, thu-thump' pounding in her ear underscored just how much of a lie that 'cool' façade he wore was.

"I can't give you anonymity. Or the freedom to live an ordinary life." He barked a sharp, bitter laugh full of self-mockery. "Damn it, I can't even get you out of a wedding with over a thousand people you've never met." Taking a step back, he kept his hands loosely grasped around her back and gazed down. "But what I  _can_  do is make it so the wedding that counts, the one we remember, is the way you want it to be."

His hands slid down her arms to entangle with hers. "Haruhi, I can't prevent the big, society wedding but, before that, would you marry me? Here, now - just you, me, and the people we love and who love us back. People who are here because they genuinely wish for our happiness."

She blinked up at him, incredulous at him speaking her own words, the ones she'd let out the one time she'd allowed herself to voice dissatisfaction. "But… how? I mean..." Her head shook in disbelief. "You… you said we couldn't elope. Our parents said we couldn't elope.  _Everyone_  said we couldn't elope. Vehemently!"

"Oh, we can't elope." He looked horrified, as if the very word itself were contaminated. "The social and business ramifications would be disastrous." Kyoya lifted a hand to stroke his fingertips against her cheek. "But an impatient groom? That's a different thing altogether. People won't just forgive that, they'll celebrate it." He chuckled, mocking society's foibles. "A grand, romantic gesture from an Ootori? That will be a conversation topic for years. Practically legendary."

"But..." Her hands flew to her mouth, trying to tamp down on the hope bursting within her. "Is... is this even legal?"

"Perfectly, according to several international treaties." His eyes glinted with the triumph of having found a way around the restrictions imposed on him. "Your father will hand deliver the paperwork to the registry office as soon as he returns. But-" With a jerk, he pulled her back into his arms, trapping hers between them, her palms flat against his chest. "-I haven't heard a 'yes' yet."

It couldn't be this easy. No - it  _wouldn't_  be. He'd dismissed the ramifications of it offhandedly, but she knew a lot more about his world than she had a year ago. People wouldn't voice offense, wouldn't be able to, so censure would fall on him in a myriad of unspoken ways. They would whisper behind his back, damning him with little words like impulsive. Undisciplined. Weak. The reputation he'd spent years building would fray at the edges.

This wasn't just a 'grand, romantic gesture.'  _This_  was Kyoya offering her his heart on a platter. Even if it would have been the wiser course, even if it were for his own good, there was no way her own heart was strong enough to reject a gift like that.

Besides, anyone who made the mistake of thinking him weak, deserved whatever they got.

Joy bubbled up within her, too strong to be contained, and she laughed. "Yes! Of course it's yes!" Haruhi smoothed her hands over his shirt. "Gods, you're as crazy as the rest of them, aren't you? I can't believe you arranged an entire wedding in under two months because of  _one_  comment I made."

"I can't believe that after all this time knowing me you still have no idea just how powerful you are." Placing a finger under her chin, he lifted her gaze to his. To eyes so filled with love her laugh vanished along with her ability to breathe. "I'd raise monuments if you commanded it. Level empires to the ground. Arranging a tropical wedding with a little under fifty guests?" He scoffed, "Child's play."

Gliding her hands up over his chest and around his neck, she tangled them in the hair at the back of his neck. "Idiot. Like I need any of that." Lifting herself up to her tiptoes, she pulled his head down and feathered her lips across his. "I only need you."

An explosion of cheering and clapping coming from the hotel deafened her, had her pulling back in embarrassment. Kyoya was having none of that. His arms tightened around her and he captured her mouth with his, returning her kiss with a ferocity that startled her, consuming her until she never wanted it to end. A kiss that went on and on until she thought that it wouldn't.

The applause was still going when he finally released her.

Blushing, she twisted in his arms to face the horde spilling out from the foyer now that it looked like the wedding was still on. At the center of it stood Yuzuru, Daiki in his arms, both grinning broadly and next to them the trifecta of Anne Sophie, Fuyumi, and Kyoya's mother clutched their handkerchiefs and dabbed at their eyes. Bracketing the trio on the other side, Ootori Yoshio looked like he was maybe, possibly, on the verge of cracking a smile.

Haruhi's lips twisted, smothering a chuckle. Somewhere, a very hot place had to be freezing over.

Maria and her brood were there, clustered next to the Hitachiin family, Mei, and Misuzu with Haruhi's former downstairs neighbors and their boss standing guard. Kasanoda's gaze kept alternating from his wife over to where the amassed Morinozuka and Haninozuka clans stood opposite him. Behind all of that, she could see even more familiar faces - her boss (by several bosses) Masahiro, Momoka and Class President Soga, Renge and her assistant, the Nekozawa siblings... the list went on and on.

Kyoya had really done it. Had gathered together everyone she loved to give her the wedding she hadn't even known she'd dreamed of.

How had her life ended up this fortunate? How had fate allowed her to have found the love of not one, but two utterly amazing men? Her throat closed over a lump, making it difficult to swallow, and her vision blurred, forcing her to blink rapidly against the moisture prickling at the corner of her eyes.

"Nope! Nope! None of that!" Mei, in a blindingly-bright turquoise, knee-length sheath dress, pushed her way out of the throng and grabbed Haruhi by the wrist. "No crying until after Stefan puts his industrial-strength, waterproof, goop on you. Now, if we are done with the whole 'moron-springing-a-surprise-wedding-on-a-girl' drama?" She sneered the question at Kyoya, not waiting for an answer before giving the bride the maniacal look which signaled an impending make-over. "Let's get you guys hitched!"

Stefan, Kaoru, and all three of the Ootori/Suoh women enveloped her, carrying her away on a river of laughter. Over her shoulder, she caught sight of the rest of the Host Club hustling Kyoya off for his own sure-to-be-less-intensive preparations. Daiki enthusiastically joined in, pushing against his soon-to-be-father's back to hurry him along.

Stefan better get that makeup on her fast, she was going to dissolve into a puddle any minute now. All these people who'd rearranged their holiday schedules for her, who'd conspired to keep this secret from her, who were laughing and smiling as if her happiness were their own… it was a blessing she never would have imagined. Not last year. Not six years ago. And definitely not back when she first walked through the doors of Ouran, first even thought of applying. Kyoya was right - her life now and in future wouldn't be what she'd always expected, what she'd always planned for herself.

It was going to be so much better!

* * *

Kyoya stood alone on the shore. Alone at the very spot where, less than three hours ago, he'd said the words that changed his life forever. The simple little words that welded two into one. That meant his life no longer belonged to him.

Before him, a path of silver stretched from just beyond his feet all the way to the nearly full moon hanging in the sky like a Christmas ornament. The waves lapped at the shore, a peaceful melody occasionally punctuated by the beats of J-Pop, American Rock, and Latin Ballads coming from the terrace behind him. The celebration party was in full swing with no signs of stopping.

He should be back there, he  _was_  both the host and one of the guests of honor. And he would go back.

In a minute.

A whisper of footsteps against sand notified him of her presence a moment before delicate arms wrapped around him from behind. He covered them with his own, shoulders relaxing when Haruhi pressed her cheek against his back. "Tired of the party?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the waves.

"Not really," he replied, rotating so he could hold her. So he could smell the orchids in her hair, stroke his fingers up and down her spine. "I just wanted a bit of time to myself. Were people starting to notice I was gone?"

Elfin eyes twinkled up at him along with the smile she hadn't let go of since the moment she'd placed a foot on the flower-strewn aisle. A smile that made her sparkle brighter than the diamond on her finger, until everything had faded into the background but her. Until his breathing became so shallow it was a miracle he hadn't expired from oxygen deprivation on the spot. Until he'd scarcely heard the words of the ceremony, causing their audience to laugh when he had to be prompted to say his vows. Even now he couldn't begin to describe how radiant she'd looked, how beautiful she would always look to him.

Kaoru and Mei would have a hard time topping themselves for the next ceremony, the simple, silk-chiffon dress they'd decided on had been perfect. Wisely, they'd left the bodice unadorned except for a small string of pearls along the sweetheart neckline, the 'Natural' host didn't need any embellishments to enhance her appeal. The unlined skirt fell in soft drapes that flowed and danced in the breeze like the petals of a flower. And the color! Whatever fanciful name it was called, it gleamed in the golden light of the setting sun - glowing whiter and whiter until she was the brightest star on the horizon.

"No, I'm the only one," Haruhi stated, yanking his thoughts away from recent memory and back to the present. "Everyone else is too busy watching Hikaru and his… date, I guess? Do some kind of Latin ballroom thing. I think they called it a  _bachata_." She wrinkled her brow adorably. "I honestly can't figure out what their relationship is."

"Nor can I." It was... annoying. Hikaru successfully keeping secrets from him was as bothersome as a fly at a picnic. "All Kaoru and Stefan could tell me was that Christina-san is here repaying some unspecified favor. And  _someone_ ," he teased, "Won't let me use my computer to do a background check on her."

Haruhi snorted, not one bit repentant. "Well, Hikaru is a big boy. I'm sure he can handle his own love life." Rolling her eyes, she clarified, "Or whatever they've got going on."

"Mmmm..." he concurred, adding "But, if he can't, that might be amusing to watch."He laughed at her glower. Someday, when he was feeling suicidal, he'd tell her how adorable she looked when she was angry. How irresistible.

Flattening the palm of his left hand against her back, he trailed the fingers of his other up along her spine. "Don't you think there are better things we could be doing out here than discussing Hikaru..." He skimmed his hand along her shoulder blade, following the patch of skin, luminous under the light of the moon, stretching from her elbow, to shoulder and up the side of her neck. "Just the two of us..." Cupping her cheek firmly, he anchored her head in place. "On a beach..." The feather-light stroke of his thumb against her very, very, sensitive earlobe made her shiver. "Under the moonlight..." Her eyes glazed over with desire, fanning his into a flame.

She was so small next to him, so tiny, he had to bend down to claim her mouth the way he'd been dreaming of all night, ever since the obligatory chaste kiss at the altar. To kiss her the way he couldn't with all their friends and family looking on. The way he was prevented from by propriety, decency, and possibly the laws of the State of Hawaii. To kiss her like she was the air he breathed, the place he found rest, the missing piece of his soul.

Because she was.

She was all that and more.

By the time they broke it off, they were both panting, their breaths mingling with the sound of the waves. "Think they'll notice if we disappear?" Kyoya asked, only half-joking.

"Probably," she replied, snuggling her cheek against him, forcing her breathing to normal. "Let's do it anyway."

"I'll text Tachibana to bring the car around," he replied promptly.

She laughed, rubbing her nose against him, a cat marking its territory. Then, she sighed deeply, stepping away with an air of regret. "God, I want to, but… I need to say a proper goodbye to Dai-chan before we go." She patted at her hair, making sure the artfully disheveled up-do Stefan had created hadn't come undone. "And, I'm pretty sure Kaoru will have an aneurysm if I don't change into the going-home outfit he planned for me." She reached out to him in invitation. "Coming?"

He faltered. He wasn't ready to return, not yet. There was a reason he was out here on a night when he should be by her side.

Understanding filled eyes which had always seen through him, discerned the things he couldn't say. Haruhi rose up on her toes, kissing him on the cheek. "I get it, you still need a few minutes to yourself." Lifting her skirt to keep it out of the sand, she headed back towards the party. "But don't stay out here brooding too long," she called out over her shoulder, "I've got a list of my own we need to get started on. I think you'll really like number seven."

Kyoya's grin didn't leave his face until long after she'd disappeared back to the patio. What on earth had he done in his life to deserve her?

Nothing.

He'd done nothing at all.

That was the whole point of why he was out here, wasn't it? The love of another person wasn't something that could be earned. It wasn't a commodity to be purchased or a reward for good behavior - it was a gift freely given. All he could do was cherish it, try to be worthy of it. And for that, he needed to finally lay the past to rest.

Tradition and convention said this was the wrong place, that he should be standing back in Bunkyo. Standing before a stone monument that contained all that physically remained of the person who'd once mattered the most to him. But he'd hesitated too long. Put off the conversation he hadn't ever wanted to have until he couldn't any longer. Until there were no more days, no more minutes, between 'now' and the future before him. Facing west, he looked out towards the sea, towards the waves that would carry his words back to his homeland. Back to where they needed to go.

"Tamaki, I…" He hesitated, not sure how to begin, not really wanting to. "I'm not sure I believe in things like souls, and spirits, and afterlives, but if they exist, if you can hear me… then I need to tell you, I'm sorry." He shook his head, his mind already supplying how his friend would have reacted. "No, idiot, not that I married Haruhi – I couldn't even try to lie that I regret that in any way." Sobering, he repeated, "But, I'm still sorry. I'm sorry that it's time for me to step out of your shadow. Time to say goodbye.

"I never wanted it to come come to this. But, I can't stop feeling like, somehow, I stepped into the life that belonged to you. The one  _you_  were destined to have." Kyoya stopped, closing his eyes. As much as his mind protested he was speaking only to water and air, his heart insisted that this was real. That a piece of himself was being torn away. "And I'll never be able to be the man they need me to be, the man you'd want me to be for them, if I continue believing that. If I always think of myself as 'second best.' The only way I can think of to move forward is to say goodbye."

Falling silent, he carefully reconstructed his control, brought his tattered emotions in line until he could do what had to be done with eyes wide open. "I have to say goodbye to the man who steps back so you can shine. To the one who lets you seize the crown." With every word he spoke, he felt lighter. Felt as if a weight he'd been bearing for years was lifting away. With each syllable, his voice rang out stronger until it reverberated over the waters. "You did your best, and had things been different I would have been happy for you, but in the end, she chose me. Haruhi. Chose.  _M_ _e_."

He let his declaration hang in the air until the last echoes faded. Then, fervently, quietly, he voiced an oath every bit as sacred as the one he'd made earlier. "Tamaki, I know can't take your place. We're too different, it wouldn't be fair to anyone to even try. But I promise I will take care of them, I will love them, and I will do whatever I can to protect their happiness. They are your greatest treasures, and now they are mine too." He bowed low and deep in gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you, for entrusting them to me. I won't let you down."

Raising his head, Kyoya waited quietly, a tiny pulse of anticipation beating in his heart. But, no challenge rang forth from the heavens, no outrage over his audacity. The only response he received was the soft whisper of wind rustling in the trees, the ' _shushing'_  of waves against the shore. Bemused that he'd half-expected anything else, he remained silent, inhaling and exhaling the night until the peace he had sought settled over him. Until he was ready to leave the 'Shadow King' behind.

Pivoting on his feet, he started to head back to the terrace, and stopped dead in his tracks. Pulse speeding up, he stared transfixed at a trick of light, a mirage of movement and shadow, that every rational part of him said couldn't be.

A little over a kilometer away, out where the land curved to form one side of the bay, a cluster of rocks poked out at the junciton between sand and sea. A local landmark the concierge had pointed out earlier, blabbering something about a local legend and  _lapu_  that he'd only half listened to. A natural jetty on which wave after wave crashed, sending a spray of droplets up into the air, forming a thick, swirling vapor.

What he saw in the mist had to be an illusion. Some natural phenomena that let the darkness turn it from a cluster of rocks worn smooth by time into something... else. Something unearthly. Something ethereal.

Something hallowed.

Some scientific anomaly interacting with moonlight, creating ghostly images in the churning ether. Phantasms that, to someone highly imaginative, would appear as a young man with shining hair.

Kyoya was not imaginative. Not in the least. And yet his breath hitched, he was unable to even blink.

Reason told him that next, a cloud must have moved across the completely clear sky, changing the shape of the light. Or a wave, unseen and unheard, altered the shape of the fog. His mind contended that  _something_  had to have happened because, for a second, the apparition smiled, raising a hand in a silent absolution.

Compelled by a faith so deep and hidden he had never known it was there, Kyoya slowly lifted his hand to accept it.

At that exact instant, the phantom vanished. The rocks were just chunks of stone. The mist just condensed droplets of water hanging in the air. The moonlight shone down unwavering, no clouds marring the pristine sky. No sign that anything unusual had happened at all.

But the heart of one man knew different.

Eyes never leaving the promontory, Kyoya breathed out a quiet, heartfelt 'Thank You' to the night. To the unseen listeners logic could no longer convince him weren't there.

His burden of guilt laid down at last, he turned his back on the past, on all the 'what ifs' and 'might-have-beens', and walked confidently towards the terrace brimming with laughter and love and light. Towards the future he could now embrace with his whole heart.

And, if one were highly imaginative, they might have almost seen in the moonlight a shimmering figure watching him go. Heard in the sound of the wind and waves the softly whispered benediction,  _"Be happy, mon ami."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
> This chapter took much longer than I expected. Part of me didn't want to write it at all because it meant 'the end' and the other part obsessed over it because I wanted to strike exactly the right note. I hope it doesn't disappoint. (God I hope it's not too sappy. Please tell me it wasn't too sappy...)
> 
> It still seems surreal to me that after over two years, 32 chapters, 160Kish words, 178 Kudos and 110 comments (at last count) that this story is finally completed. Thank you, thank you, thank you again and again to everyone who has taken the time to read, favorite/follow, and especially comment on this story.
> 
> Extra special Honey-hugs to those who nagged me back to writing when I got busy, to those who challenged me to try my best to write a story I thought worthy of these characters, and to those who forced me to make sure I was doing my best to be true to the amazing source material Bisco Hatori provided. There are waaaay too many people to even begin to list here - y'all know who you are and I am grateful for every one of you.
> 
> Thank you all again for the amazing experience this has been and for being one of the best and most supportive fandoms out there. – MB.


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